


Return of the Heirs

by JayColin



Series: Founder's Knights [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, DISCONTINUED STORY, F/M, Language, M/M, Male Slash, Original Character(s), Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:42:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 34
Words: 173,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26326576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayColin/pseuds/JayColin
Summary: THIS IS A REPOST OF A DISCONTINUED STORY.It has since been completely rewritten as Knights of the Founders. As such, this story will not be getting any updates beyond what was originally written. It's being posted here only for archival and comparison purposes for those of you who have seen the Rewrite of 'Return of the Heirs' line in the summary for Knights of the Founders and might have been curious about the original version of the story.Again, just to be clear THE STORY IS DISCONTINUED and WILL NOT be updated. I suggest you check out Knights of the Founders if you want some resolution, as many of the storylines from this did make it into the rewrite, although they may have been altered along with other aspects of the story.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Oliver Wood/Original Male Character(s)
Series: Founder's Knights [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1912996
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter and the Return of the Heirs

By J.C. Vascardi

* * *

Chapter One

* * *

As the moon rose above Privet Drive, a teenage boy with a mess of raven black hair sat alone in his small upstairs bedroom. He was sitting at his desk, looking through a leather-bound photo album. The boy, sixteen-year-old Harry Potter, sat in silence as he looked at the wedding pictures of his good friend and former Care of Magical Creatures teacher, Rubeus Hagrid, to Madame Maxime Olympe, the Headmistress of Beauxbatons Academy. Hagrid had wanted to invite Harry to the wedding, and would have likely asked Harry to stand for him as his best man, but Professor Dumbledore decided that it would be far too dangerous for Harry to leave the Dursleys' during summer break and travel to France for the wedding. So, Hagrid sent several pictures of the wedding and, while it wasn't quite as good as actually being there, Harry was glad that Hagrid had found happiness nonetheless.

It was a very peaceful moment, until suddenly the silence was broken as a very loud voice yelled from downstairs, "BOY!! GET DOWN HERE!!"

Closing the photo album, Harry jumped up from his chair and left the room. Within moments he was downstairs in the kitchen.

"Clear the dishes," said the same voice that had called him.

The voice belonged to the large and bulky mass of a man that was Harry's uncle, Vernon Dursley. Vernon, his wife Petunia, and their equally bulky son Dudley were sitting at the dining room table, having just finished dinner. The Dursleys hated having Harry in their home, so, over the past month or so, they'd gotten into the habit of eating dinner without him. They would then have him come downstairs, clear the table, wash the dishes, and then he could eat the leftovers of the night's meal. Of course, that was assuming there was anything left after Dudley finished eating.

Without saying a word to the Dursleys, Harry began to clear the dishes as quickly as he could. The Dursleys retreated to the living room to relax after dinner as Harry began the task of washing the dishes. Half an hour later, Harry was finished with the dishes, so he took the single dinner roll and the single cold slice of roast beef that was left from dinner and used it to make a small sandwich. It wasn't a very satisfying meal by any means, especially considering that he'd missed breakfast and lunch because he didn't finish his chores on time during the day, but Harry was used to not getting fed much by the Dursleys. Harry didn't starve to death, however, because his friend Ron's mother, Molly Weasley, was always sending packages of food along with the frequent letters that Ron and his brothers sent over the summer.

Harry was about to go back upstairs when his Aunt Petunia called, "Boy, get in here!"

"Yes, Aunt Petunia?" Harry asked as he walked into the living room, having just finished his meager dinner.

Vernon answered instead. "I got a raise at work and I'm taking the family on holiday to the south of France."

Harry knew that this would likely not include him, and shortly thereafter that suspicion was made quite clear when Dudley said, "You're not invited."

Harry was about to tell his relatives to have fun, even though he was secretly wishing that they'd all become shark food when their plane crashed into the sea, when his pet snowy owl, Hedwig, came flying in through the open dining room window and landed on his shoulder. As Harry took the letter from Hedwig's leg, his uncle, acting as if he had not even seen the owl fly into the room, said, "Of course, now the only question is what to do with you? I don't want you and your unnaturalness alone in my house."

Harry opened the letter and read it before he said, "Problem solved."

"What was that?" Aunt Petunia asked.

"I said 'problem solved,'" Harry said as he held up the letter he just got. "My friend Ron's mum and dad have invited me to spend the rest of the summer with them."

Vernon snatched the letter from Harry's hand, as if he didn't believe what Harry had said, and after a moment he asked, "Weasley? Aren't they those people who destroyed my fireplace two summers ago?"

"Yes, but..."

"Out of the question. I don't want them in my house again!"

"They won't have to come anywhere near the house," Harry said. "You'll notice that it mentions a portkey at the bottom of the letter."

Vernon glanced quickly at the bottom of the letter, before he asked, "What the hell is a portkey?"

"It's a magical transportation device," Aunt Petunia answered before Harry could. After a moment, she clamped her hand over her mouth when she realized what she had just said and cast a terrified look at her husband.

This was the second time in his recent memory that Harry had heard his Aunt Petunia volunteer information about the wizarding world. The first time was last summer after the Dementor attack, when he was trying to explain to his Uncle what Dementors were and Aunt Petunia said that they guarded the wizard prison, Azkaban. Even now, almost a year later, Harry still found it extremely odd that his Aunt knew that. She had told him at the time that she'd overheard Harry's dad telling her sister about it once, but Harry thought that his Aunt would have forgotten anything that had to do with the wizarding world. After all, it had been over sixteen years since she could have heard that word, and it was especially odd that she would remember it, considering how much she loathed anything to do with Lily and James Potter.

Vernon scowled at Petunia for a moment before he said, "I thought you weren't allowed to do magic outside of school."

"I'm not," Harry said. "Portkey doesn't count though, because I don't have to cast any form of spell. I just have to touch it at the designated time tomorrow evening and I'm off to the Weasley's house. You won't see me again until after school lets out next summer."

"Well then, go pack that trunk of yours, boy, and good riddance!" Vernon said as he threw the letter back at Harry. Harry just smiled sweetly at his hated relatives before turning around and leaving the room.

* * *

Sixteen-year-old Ryan Cromwell was sitting in a chair in the living room of his grandmother's small cottage, reading a large, leather-bound copy of 'Shakespeare's Complete Works'. Ryan was born in Yorkshire, but for reasons that she never really explained to him, his grandmother Lucinda packed him up and moved with him to Asheville, North Carolina when he was ten. That was classic Lucinda Cromwell though, as she oftentimes made decisions for other people and just expected them to go along with it, with little to no explanation.

Some people would find that to be extremely annoying, but few people question it, because while Lucinda was nowhere near being the most powerful witch alive at the time, she was considered by quite a few to be somewhere in the top twenty. She had also gained lots of respect through her long and successful career as an Auror, and her late husband, William Cromwell, had been a very generous philanthropist in both the Wizarding and Muggle Worlds. After he died, she continued his philanthropic pursuits, so most people tended to overlook her somewhat overbearing personality because she obviously had a big heart and was always willing to help those in need.

Ryan continued to read quietly, rather engrossed in 'The Tempest,' when Frances Simmons, his grandmother's part-time housekeeper, walked in and cleared her throat, causing Ryan to look up. Noticing that Frances was wringing her hands and had a decidedly distressed look upon her face, Ryan closed his book, stood up, and asked, "Is something wrong, Frances?"

"Oh, Mr. Cromwell, sir, I am so sorry!" Frances said as she started crying.

"I asked you to call me Ryan, remember? Now, what's wrong?"

"I just came from your grandmother's room," Frances replied through tears. "Oh Gods, I'm so sorry!"

"Why? What's wrong with my grandmother?"

"I'm afraid she's dead, sir," Frances said.

"D-dead?" Ryan stuttered after a moment. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, Ryan, I'm sure," Frances said. "I was going into the room to change the sheets, as she is usually downstairs in her laboratory by now. When I went in I found her still in bed. I thought it was rather odd, so I got a little closer and that's when I realized that she wasn't breathing."

"Well, maybe she isn't dead yet," Ryan said in a desperate tone of voice. "Call a healer over here!"

"There's no need for that, Ryan," Frances said. "My mother was a healer for over fifty years, so she taught me everything she knew. I tried every spell I could think of, but she didn't respond. It's too late, Ryan, I'm so sorry."

"Oh Gods, NO!" Ryan exclaimed as he dashed from the living room and bolted up the stairs with Frances following close behind. Arriving in Lucinda's bedroom, it was just as Frances had said. Lucinda was lying on the bed, eyes closed, and as Ryan sat down next to her and grabbed her hand, he realized that she was indeed dead, as her hand was ice cold. Having always been very close to his grandmother, as she was the only mother he'd ever known, he threw himself down on her chest and began sobbing.

Frances looked on for a moment, before coming over and gently rubbing her hand in circles over the young man's back, trying her best to comfort him. Finally she asked, "Is there anything I can do for you, Ryan?"

Sitting up and wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his shirt, he looked up at Frances and said, "If you could take care of packing my belongings, I'd be grateful. With Grandmother dead, I'll have to move back to Yorkshire with my Uncle Charles."

"Of course, Ryan dear," Frances said. "I shall miss you and again, I'm very sorry for your loss."

"Thank you, Frances," Ryan said as he dried his eyes a second time while Frances turned and left the room. Taking a deep breath, Ryan stood and walked over to the bedroom fireplace. He grabbed a handful of Floo powder from the vase on the mantle, threw it into the fireplace and said, "Cromwell Hall, Yorkshire," as he stuck his head into the flames to inform his Uncle Charles of the bad news.

* * *

Harry's Journal - August 7, 1996

Well, this is the first time I've actually sat down to write in this thing. This journal was part of my joint birthday present from Hermione and Ginny. Ginny didn't know what she should get me for my birthday, so she pooled her money with Hermione and they bought me a new eagle feather quill and a few jars of various colored inks. Hermione figured that giving me just a quill and ink with nothing to use it with seemed odd, so she then added this journal. Ginny was, for obvious reasons, rather leery about giving me a diary, but after Hermione's assurance that it was totally mundane, she relented.

I am so glad to be away from the Dursleys, although I am a little mad that the portkey took me to Grimmauld Place instead of the Burrow. It's hard to be back in this house now that Sirius is dead. I suppose I should at least be thankful that Kreacher hasn't shown up, because if I saw him right now, I'd get in big trouble. Not only for underage wizardry away from school, but also for using an Unforgivable, because I think I'd Avada Kedavra that wretched elf on sight. I know Hermione would frown upon that, but he deserves it after his betrayal.

On a more pleasant note, Ron's, Hermione's, and my OWL results arrived about a week ago, shortly after I arrived. We all sat down in the sitting room and opened them together. Hermione, of course, got O's in everything, although considering how much she studies, that really doesn't surprise me.

Ron's results were also a rather pleasant surprise, for both Hermione and I as well as him. I honestly think he thought he'd done worse then he actually had. Ron managed to get three Outstanding OWLs — in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, and Care of Magical Creatures. Mrs. Weasley was very happy about that. He got three Exceeds Expectations — in Astronomy, Transfiguration, and, believe it or not, Potions. I think not having Snape around may have been a big help. Acceptable in History of Magic and Herbology, and a Dreadful in Divination.

As for me, like Ron, I was pretty surprised with my results. I'd expected to get an Outstanding in Defense, but the rest of my results really shocked me. I have to thank Hermione profusely I guess, because she's probably the reason that Ron and I didn't do as badly as we'd expected. I expected the Dreadful in Divinations, because, quite frankly, I hate that stupid class. I got an Acceptable in Astronomy and History of Magic, which I'd say is pretty good, especially in History considering I can never stay awake in Binns' class. I got an Exceeds Expectations in Herbology and Transfiguration and Outstanding in Charms and Magical Creatures.

The really shocking grade though — an OUTSTANDING in POTIONS!!! I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw it. At first I was upset about that because it meant that I'd have to take Snape's class again, but then I thought, 'Maybe I'll get extremely lucky and Snape will be so shocked to see my name on his class register that he'll drop dead and we'll get a new teacher.' Wishful thinking I know, and I should probably cut him some slack because of the danger he puts himself in for the Order's sake, but it's hard to put the way he's treated me for the last five years out of my mind.

I can't wait for Hogwarts to start. The couple of times that Dumbledore has been around he'd hinted that we should expect a few surprises this year. I just hope they're the good kind of surprises. Of course, going off to Hogwarts also means getting out of this dreadful old house and away from the shrieking of Mrs. Black, who we still haven't been able to silence. Her portrait is still stuck on the wall downstairs and, try as everyone might, we can't find the necessary charm to remove it. I guess they don't call it a permanent sticking charm for nothing.

Speaking of Mrs. Black, she's just started screaming again, so I can't concentrate on writing anymore. I wish that old hag would just shut up!!

* * *

Sixteen-year-old Draco Malfoy emerged from his morning shower, and after drying his hair and wiping the excess water off of his skin, he wrapped the towel around his waist and went into his room to get dressed for the day. Having celebrated his sixteenth birthday only two days prior, Draco just couldn't help but think of his mixed feelings in terms of his next birthday. On one hand, he was happy that he was only a year away from his age of majority, which meant that he'd finally be able to do magic whenever he wanted without having to worry about the underage restrictions along with learning how to Apparate and the like. On the other hand, though, he also dreaded his seventeenth birthday because he knew that his father would very likely invite the last person in the world that Draco would want attending his birthday party.

If he told anyone that, they'd probably assume that he was talking about his arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. The truth of the matter was, however, that the last person that Draco would want at his birthday party was his father's master, Lord Voldemort. He never told his father, because he knew that his father would kill him for such a betrayal, but Draco made up his mind a long, long time ago that he was not going to follow Voldemort. Over the years, his father had done everything he could to convince Draco that it was his duty to follow Voldemort; that he would be betraying the honor of the Malfoy family if he didn't follow Voldemort. Lucius had even gone so far as using the Imperius and Cruciatus curses on Draco several times in order to convince him that Voldemort was the best thing to happen to the wizarding world and was it's only hope for survival.

Trying to convince Draco that he had to follow Voldemort wasn't the only reason that Lucius used the Cruciatus on his son, but it was definitely one of the main reasons. Draco has always allowed his father to believe that he had every intention of giving his loyalty to the Dark Lord and willingly accepting his Mark. It was for that reason that Voldemort was the absolute last person that Draco wanted attending his seventeenth birthday party, because he knew that Voldemort's 'birthday present' for Draco would be his Dark Mark. Draco wanted absolutely nothing to do with Voldemort, and that's why he feared the arrival of his seventeenth birthday. He'd always been told that Voldemort only gives his Mark to those people who agree to follow him of their own free will, but Draco couldn't help but think that somehow his father would see to it that Draco was Marked no matter what.

This birthday, however, had been by far the best he could remember in a while. His father was out of town for an extended business trip, so his mother decided to take him on a two-week vacation to Martinique. From what Narcissa had told him, Draco knew that her parents had gone to Martinique on their honeymoon and had then taken her along with them when they went back for a second honeymoon several years later. Narcissa loved it so much that she decided it was a place that she absolutely had to share with her beloved son. Spending quality time with his mother was definitely enjoyable, but what really made Draco happy about the trip was that Lucius was not around to place him under the Cruciatus Curse.

Narcissa and Draco left on their little vacation a week before his birthday, so after spending the last nine days relaxing on a tropical beach, Draco's normally deathly pale skin did get a bit more color to it. He was still pretty pale after spending most of his childhood indoors, but it was certainly an improvement. Narcissa told him that he looked much better now and she was quite happy that he didn't resemble a walking corpse anymore. Draco laughed at that and had to agree.

Draco had always enjoyed spending time alone with his mother, because when he was alone with her, he didn't have to put on the act that he put on in front of everyone else, especially his father. Lucius was insistent that Draco not show his emotions, saying that showing one's emotions was a sign of weakness and that Malfoys, especially Malfoy men, must never, ever be weak. If Draco showed emotion in front of Lucius, he'd be liable to be placed under the Cruciatus Curse for several minutes as punishment. With Narcissa, however, it was totally different, because she encouraged her son to show emotion and to not be the stuck-up spoiled brat that her husband tried to make him.

She fully understood that Draco must act a certain way in public, even if Lucius isn't around, in case word were to get back to him somehow, but when it was just the two of them, she encouraged Draco to be his true self and not hide behind the cold and unfeeling mask that his father had always insisted upon.

Draco had just finished getting dressed when there was a knock on his door and the kindly voice of Narcissa Malfoy asked, "Draco, darling, are you awake?"

"Yes, mother," Draco said as he opened the door and smiled at her.

"An owl just arrived for you, dear," Narcissa said. "Judging by the seal on the back, I'm pretty sure it's your OWL results."

Draco took the envelope from his mother and, after breaking the seal, he removed the parchment from inside, scanned over it, and then breathed a sigh of relief.

"What's wrong, Draco?"

"Well, I got O's in everything," Draco said. "Now I don't have to worry about father killing me."

"You never would have had to worry in the first place, my darling," Narcissa said as she pulled Draco into a hug. "I would never allow him to kill you.

Congratulations though on your OWL results. You do your former Ravenclaw mother proud." After a minute longer, Narcissa ended the hug and smiled at her son before asking, "How about we go swimming for a little while before breakfast?"

"Sounds great," Draco said with a smile.

"Okay, just change into your suit then and meet me out on the beach in ten minutes?"

"Okay," Draco said as his mother flashed him a smile and left the room.

* * *

To be continued...


	2. Chapter 2

Harry Potter and the Return of the Heirs  
By J.C. Vascardi

* * *  
Chapter Two  
* * *

Ryan woke up in a very large bed and, for a moment, like every morning in the two weeks since his grandmother's passing, he couldn't figure out where he was. After a moment of thought, however, he realized that he was back in his old room at Cromwell Hall in Yorkshire, where he had spent the first ten years of his life. Ryan's mother had died giving birth to him and he'd always assumed that his father was dead as well, since he was raised by his grandparents. His grandmother had never actually said that his father was dead and, unlike his mother, whose grave he'd visited several times, he had no actual proof that he was dead, but he just assumed that if his father were alive, he'd be around. Not that being raised by his grandparents had been bad or anything, because both of his grandparents had always been very kind.

Still, Ryan did have many unanswered questions about his father. He wondered, for example, why his surname was Cromwell, which was his mother Alexandra's maiden name, rather than his father's name. Lucinda, however, had never been very forthcoming about information pertaining to family history. Whenever asked about it, she'd immediately change the subject, as if there was some deep, dark family secret that she didn't want to come to light. He'd tried asking his cousin Matt's parents, Charles and Katrina Dashwood Cromwell, but they didn't know anymore about it than he did, or at least that's what they claimed. Matt's mother suffered a stroke and died last year, so now with his grandmother dead, it was just Matt, Charles, Ryan, and the house-elves in the large manor, or at least that's what Ryan thought.

On his way down to the kitchen for breakfast, Ryan stopped dead in his tracks outside the large and ornate double doors that led into Matt's bedroom. Pressing his ear against the door for a moment, Ryan heard the distinct sounds of mattress springs squeaking and a headboard hitting the wall, as well as low moaning sounds. It was quite obvious that Matt had a friend over as he was sure that Matt couldn't be making those noises all by himself. It was then that Ryan decided to do a little digging and see if he could find out who Matt's friend was, since he'd never mentioned anything about being in a serious relationship with anyone.

Not wanting to risk getting caught listening to his cousin having sex with someone, Ryan quickly backed away from the door and headed down the manor's rear stairs, which led directly downstairs to the kitchen. As soon as he arrived, one of the house-elves stepped forward and asked, "How can Barin help you, Master Ryan?"

"I came down for breakfast."

"Of course," Barin said. "Just tell Barin what you'd like."

"Hot tea and some toast will be fine."

"Yes, Master Ryan. Just sit out in the dining room. It will be out soon."

Ryan did as he was told and went out through the swinging door to the small and informal dining room that he remembered was only used by the immediate Cromwell family. Whenever they hosted dinner parties at the manor they used the Grand Ballroom for dinner. Having been married to a Muggle, Ryan's Uncle Charles was rather keen on Muggle inventions and technology, so he had the floor in the ballroom changed so that with the press of a button it would open up and a large mahogany dining table with enough matching chairs to seat about three hundred people would rise out of the floor. After dinner, the table would be lowered so that everyone could dance.

After a few minutes, Barin came out of the kitchen, levitating a large silver tray behind him. After it was levitated up to the table, Ryan could see a plate of toast, a silver tea service, a cup and a saucer, and a few small dishes of various fruit preserves. Barin bowed and then asked, "Does Master Ryan need anything else?"

"Well, I do have a few questions."

"Yes, Master Ryan. Barin will answer."

"First off, where is my uncle?" Ryan asked.

"Master Charles left for work an hour ago," Barin replied.

"Okay," Ryan said with a nod and then asked, "Do you know when my cousin will be down?"

"Master Matthew and his friend eat breakfast in bed," Barin answered. "Oh, Barin wasn't supposed to say that. Eep! Barin is in so much trouble."

"Calm down. It'll be okay," Ryan said in an attempt to calm the now hysterical house-elf.

"No, Barin is in much trouble," the elf repeated. "Master Matthew say house-elves not supposed to talk about that. Barin is in trouble. Bad Barin! Bad!" 

"I'm family though," Ryan said. "Aren't you supposed to do as I ask?"

"Um, yes." The elf nodded and Ryan could see that the elf desperately wanted to punish itself, but it didn't because Ryan distinctly remembered his grandmother telling him that she had long time ago forbidden the house-elves to punish themselves. "But not this. No, no, not this. Master Matthew insisted. Threatened Barin and other elves, sir. Said he'd give us clothes if we told!"

"Ah, I see," Ryan said. "Okay, well, I'll just ask my cousin then, Barin, and don't worry, I'll make sure that Matt doesn't give you clothes for revealing what you have. I've always been told that I can be very persuasive. Anyway, Matt and I have always been close, so I'm sure I can convince him not to punish you."  
"You is most kind Master Ryan," Barin said as he bowed again before disappearing from the room with a loud pop.

'Hmm, if I can't get the information out of the house-elves,' Ryan thought, 'I guess I'll just need to try the sneakier approach.'

A few more minutes later, Ryan had finished his breakfast and was headed back upstairs to his bedroom.

* * *

Draco's Journal - August 22, 1996

Well, another day in paradise has dawned. I'm loving every minute of being in Martinique, but I'm also well aware that each passing minute brings me that much closer to having to return to Malfoy Manor. Thankfully, school will be starting soon and I won't have to deal with Father very much. It's probably too much to ask that he not get back from his business trip until after I've gone off to school.

I do worry about my mother though. Based on how Father treats me when Mother isn't around, I'm not sure I even want to imagine how he treats her when I'm not around. When I'm around he treats her civilly enough, but I just can't help but wonder what happens when I'm not. I mean, when Mother isn't around, Father is always mad at me it seems. Sometimes I think that if he hadn't been expected to provide an heir for the Malfoy fortune, he never would have had children to begin with. Gods know he certainly isn't a model father. In fact, I'm sure he must be the furthest thing from it. At least I certainly hope he is.

Lucius is the only father I've ever known, so I would hope that there actually are fathers out there who are not as cruel as he is. I've never told Mother anything about how he treats me when she isn't around, because I fear for her safety. I know that she'd probably be furious with him and would confront him. I'm afraid that whatever civility he shows her when I'm around would be gone the second she dared to contradict him or fight him on something, even if I was in the room.

I'm so happy that I bought this journal. It had been an impulse purchase last fall when I was at Flourish and Blotts for my schoolbooks. When I got back home, I thought I was probably stupid to buy it, but after I started writing in it, I quickly realized that it was pretty helpful. Being an only child, I don't have a brother or a sister I can turn to. I certainly can't turn to my father about anything even slightly related to emotions, as he'd accuse me of being weak and punish me somehow. I can talk to Mother about some things, but as I said above, I fear for her safety if I told her everything.

As for friends, I suppose the closest thing to friends I have would be my fellow sixth-year Slytherins, Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass. We're rather friendly with one another. Well, rather friendly with Daphne, perhaps. I've slept with Blaise though, so I suppose rather friendly would be an understatement. Blaise and I certainly aren't a couple, but we did use one another to figure out that we were gay and now we continue to have occasional flings to satisfy our raging teenage hormones. So, while I wouldn't go as far as saying that Blaise and Daphne are friends, we at least have an understanding with one another. I just don't think I'm ready to start divulging all of my personal thoughts to them though, so this journal is really helping me to sort things out.

Well, looking at the clock, it's time I stop writing now. I have to go take a shower and get dressed so that I can meet Mother for breakfast.

* * *

Harry was in the sitting room of Grimmauld Place, reading a book that Remus had bought him for his birthday. It was entitled '101 Useful Spells to Embarrass Your Friends and Get Revenge on Your Enemies.' Hermione and Ron were sitting on the sofa across from him, wrapped up in each other's arms. The two of them had finally gotten together and Harry couldn't help but be happy for them, yet at the same time, he also felt like a bit of a third wheel now. Harry was so engrossed in reading that he hadn't heard Hermione talking to him until she tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention.

"You know Harry," Hermione said, "it's really good to see you so engrossed in a book for once. Although, I'm sure there are much more interesting things you could be reading than a book of spells meant to embarrass people and get revenge."

"Worried I might use one of them on you?" Harry asked in a playful tone of voice, the grin on his face clearly stating he would never do it.

Hermione just laughed and then said, "Oh, fine, Harry. I suppose reading something is better than nothing at all. If you ever get tired of reading such things though and want to read something with a bit more substance, let me know. I'm sure I can recommend some good books."

"Harry is reading a good book," Ron said, "especially if he intends to use one of those spells on that insufferable git Malfoy."

"Ronald Weasley!" Hermione said in a pretty fair imitation of Molly Weasley.

"What?"

"You're a prefect!"

"Um, Hermione, I hate to break it to you," Ron said, "but we aren't at Hogwarts and the school year hasn't started yet."

Before Hermione could say anything else however, Remus Lupin walked into the room, followed shortly thereafter by the rest of the Weasley clan.

"What are you all doing here?" Ron asked when he saw Fred, George, Bill, Charlie, Percy, and Ginny entering the room behind their parents.

Percy, despite his horrid behavior the previous year, had at that point been accepted back into the family. After Lord Voldemort had been spotted in person at the Ministry of Magic by Cornelius Fudge and over a dozen Aurors, Percy really had no choice but to admit that he'd been a stupid fool for acting the way he had been for the last two years and had finally come to realize that family was very important. It pained him to know that he had caused the rift by taking the Ministry's side instead of his family's, who were right all along. 

After it ate him up inside for several days, he forced himself to go crawling back to his family and beg for forgiveness. Luckily for him, his parents welcomed him home with open arms. If he wanted to be truly honest with himself, he didn't know how much his family meant to him until after he lost them.

In Molly and Arthur's minds, while they had both been deeply hurt by Percy's words and actions, he was still their son and they loved him no matter what. So when he apologized and asked for their forgiveness, they gave it freely. Charlie had also forgiven him rather quickly, as the two of them were the second and third eldest, and despite some personality differences and other clashes over the years, they were still pretty close growing up. It took Fred and George a bit longer to forgive him, and Percy had been on the receiving end of more then a few humiliating practical jokes, although he didn't complain because he knew he deserved that and more for the way he'd acted.

Bill, Ron, and Ginny were the real holdouts, as they had been extremely angry about the way Percy had acted, especially after the letter that Percy had written to Ron insulting Harry. Eventually though, after he had apologized to the three of them profusely and also apologized to Harry for saying what he had in that letter, Bill, Ron, and Ginny forgave him. He was family after all, and if there were two things that had been drilled into all of the Weasley children growing up, it was the importance of family and also the importance of forgiveness. Percy had been led astray, but now he honestly seemed to acknowledge that he was wrong and neither Bill, Ron, nor Ginny could find it in themselves to hold a grudge.

"Honestly, I have no idea Ron," Bill said as he sat down next to Harry and flashed him a discreet smile. "All I know is that I got an owl from Professor Dumbledore telling me that my presence was required at Headquarters this morning, although he never said why exactly."

"Same here," said the twins in perfect unison as they sat down on the floor near the fireplace.

"Well, then it seems none of us really know," Percy said finally after Remus, Charlie, Ginny, and his parents had all acknowledged they had gotten the same notice from Dumbledore. "I'm sure Professor Dumbledore must have a reason for calling us all together."

"Right you are, Percy my boy," Dumbledore said as he appeared in the doorway, his eyes seemingly lacking some of their usual twinkle. "If you will all please have a seat, I'll get down to business."

"Albus, if this is Order business, then I really think it best the children leave the room," Molly said as Dumbledore took the only remaining seat in the room: a large armchair in front of the fireplace from which he could easily see everyone.

"This isn't Order business," Dumbledore said. "It is potentially upsetting however, but I fear that we must get this over with. I've called you all here tonight to discuss Sirius Black, or, more specifically, his last will and testament."

Silence filled the room for several minutes before Harry finally found his voice and asked, "Why are we doing this now?" 

"Well, Harry, I've been fighting with the Ministry for the last month," Dumbledore answered. "Sirius' estate has been ready for division under the terms of his will since the beginning of the month, but the Ministry has been doing everything they could to block it from happening. Unfortunately, Peter Pettigrew remains at large, so Cornelius is still refusing to believe that Sirius was innocent of the crimes he'd been accused of in life. I think we all know how difficult Minister Fudge can be, correct?"

Dumbledore didn't wait for any response to his question before continuing, "So, at any rate, in the eyes of the Ministry, Sirius is still a convicted felon, regardless of the fact that he fell through the veil while fighting Death Eaters. So, as a convicted felon, the Ministry believed his estate to be property which they could seize for themselves. As Sirius named me the executor of his will, I've been doing everything in my power to convince them that they should just allow his estate to be divided as he wished. In the end, and I am ashamed to admit it, but I had to resort to a more underhanded approach to get Cornelius to agree."

"You blackmailed the Minister of Magic?" Arthur asked, totally incredulous. While it was true that Cornelius Fudge was a total wimp of a man who should never have become Minister, the fact remained that he was still Minister of Magic, and it took quite a bit of nerve for Dumbledore to blackmail him.

"Well, Arthur, blackmail is such a strong word," Dumbledore replied, his eyes twinkling a bit more than they had been. "I merely pointed out to Cornelius that it wouldn't look good for him or his re-election chances if it had reached the Daily Prophet that he had denied St. Mungo's and Hogwarts very generous bequests, not to mention the bequest that sets aside a large amount of galleons and land for the creation of a home for wizarding orphans."

"That's almost Slytherin of you, Albus," Remus said with an amused grin on his face.

"Well, as I said, I'm ashamed to admit it," Dumbledore said. "Although, it worked in the end, nonetheless."

"So, why did you need to see all of us?" Molly asked after a few moments of silence.

"Well, in addition to what he left to charity," Dumbledore said, "Sirius also left a bequest to everyone in this room. Don't look so shocked, Arthur. Sirius really did like you and you are distant cousins after all, so he thought that it was only right that he include you in his will. He also left a bequest to Tonks, but she is off on an important mission for the Order and couldn't be here tonight."

Pulling out a large scroll of parchment that must have been Sirius' will, Dumbledore read though it and began to summarize the contents.

* * *

Upon arriving back upstairs in his bedroom, Ryan walked over to his trunk, opened it, and removed his invisibility cloak from it. The cloak had belonged to his grandmother before she died. She had always used it in her work as an Auror, but over the summers when Ryan wasn't allowed to do magic, she'd always loaned it to him. She'd also given him a small volume on invisibility spells to use while he was in school, as she would then need her cloak back.

'Well, she has no need for it now,' Ryan thought a bit sadly as he wrapped the cloak around himself and walked over to the fireplace of his bedroom. Having lived in Cromwell Hall for ten years, Ryan knew all of its secrets, including the numerous hidden passageways. Reaching a hand under the mantle, Ryan triggered a small button which caused the wall to the left of the fireplace to swing open. Ducking into the hidden passage, Ryan made his way down the cramped space to where he knew the entrance to Matt's bedroom was.

'Better make sure it's all clear,' Ryan thought as he pulled a small silver chain, which caused two small circular holes to open in the wall. The holes actually allowed a person in the passageway to look into the room through the eyes of the portrait hanging above the fireplace. Since Matt's mother had been a Muggle, most of the portraits were all normal Muggle portraits that didn't move. The only rooms in the house that had wizard portraits were Charles' study, the library, and a large gallery on the third floor. Ryan looked through the small holes and saw that the room appeared to be empty. He did however notice that the bathroom door was closed and that light and steam were coming from underneath it.

Pulling the chain to return the portrait to normal, Ryan pushed the button to open the panel into Matt's room and stepped in, quickly closing the panel behind him. Crossing the room, the sound of the shower running was obvious as well as the fact that the house-elves had not been up yet to clean the room, as the bed was turned down on both sides, the sheets were very rumpled, and a breakfast tray with two of everything except food on it laid abandoned at the foot of the bed.

The shower water soon turned off and, after a moment, a tall and slender young man who must have been about the same age as Matt walked out of the bathroom clad only in a white bath towel. His hair was damp and was clinging to his forehead, but it was obviously a light brownish blond color when dry.

Ryan watched the young man getting dressed for a few moments, thoroughly enjoying the sight before his eyes. Ryan couldn't help but think that while he was unaware of the fact that his cousin liked guys, he certainly did have good taste. And that's when it happened. Something which Ryan wished hadn't and he tried to stop it, but failed. Ryan sneezed.

The young man's eyes quickly looked around the room and seeing nobody there he asked, "Who's there?"

* * *

Harry's Journal - August 22, 1996

I'm still in a state of shock, as I'm sure many people in this house are. I invited all of the Weasleys to spend the night here tonight, seeing as Grimmauld Place was part of my inheritance from Sirius. I don't know what I had really been expecting, but I honestly didn't realize that Sirius was as well off as he was. I thought that since his mother had blasted him off the Black family tree, he wouldn't inherit all of the family holdings. As it would turn out though, Wizarding law favors the male heir when determining who gets what when the deceased doesn't have a will. Sirius' parents got the notion into their heads that wills were Muggle documents and hence refused to have them drafted. So, without wills to dictate who got what, Sirius inherited the majority of the Black holdings since he was the last remaining male heir at the time of his parents' deaths.

First there were the charitable donations:  
1\. Five million galleons to St. Mungo's Hospital  
2\. Five million galleons to Hogwarts for the creation of the James and Lily Potter Memorial Scholarship  
3\. Five million galleons and twenty acres of land near Ottery St. Catchpole for the establishment of the James and Lily Potter Home for Wizarding Orphans

The scholarship and orphanage really struck a cord with me since Sirius wanted them to be named for my parents. A scholarship fund for Hogwarts is a great idea because it is a boarding school and I'm sure there are students who might not be able to attend simply due to the fact that their families can't afford the tuition. The orphanage is also a good idea because, being for wizarding orphans, the children will at least be around other magical children growing up. Sirius wanted Mrs. Weasley and Lupin to get the orphanage up and running. At least with them in control, no wizarding orphan will be turned away because of their parentage.

Sirius also left bequests of a million galleons each to Hermione, Dumbledore, all of the Weasleys, and Tonks. I was especially happy about the Weasleys getting some money because I know how much Ron has always hated the fact that his family is so poor. Sirius also put Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, and George in control of a trust fund worth ten million galleons, intended for their children so that future generations of the Weasley family would have no problems with money. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were also given control of the trust in Ron and Ginny's names, until such time they reach adulthood.

Sirius left ten million galleons to Lupin, and the rest of the estate, which consisted of fifteen million galleons, Grimmauld Place, and all of the other Black family holdings, was left to me. Until I reach my age of majority, Lupin is also in charge of a three million galleon trust fund meant for my first-born child. Of course, Sirius died before I had really accepted it, so he had no way of knowing that I'm gay and will likely never have a child. Of course, that's assuming that Voldemort doesn't kill me before I'm even old enough to consider having a family.

Thinking back on my limited experiences in the romance department, I realized a while ago that I was gay. I mean, things certainly never worked well with Cho, that's for sure. The kiss we shared had to be the most awkward thing I've ever experienced in my life. At the time I just assumed it was because it was my first kiss and I was nervous. In hindsight, I know for a fact that it wasn't nervousness. It's funny, isn't it; how hindsight always seems to be one hundred percent crystal clear? You don't know what the hell you're doing at the time, but months or even years later you look back on it and suddenly you understand what was going on and you have insights into it which could have totally changed the outcome of those events, if only you'd had them at the time.

Anyway, I've realized that nervousness may have played a small part, but it certainly wasn't the reason that the kiss went as badly as it did. On Cho's part, I think she would much rather have been kissing Cedric, and I've come to realize that I would much rather have been kissing a guy. I think the whole reason I ever started going out with Cho in the first place was because somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I was gay and I was determined not to admit it, so I managed to convince myself that I wanted Cho.

Part of my wanting to be with Cho was probably also due to the guilt I've always felt over Cedric's death. Voldemort's fight was with me and Cedric was just an innocent bystander who ended up being in the wrong place at the wrong time. People have told me many times that what happened was not my fault, but I'm not sure I'll ever be able to believe that. I think some part of me will always believe that I'm to blame for Cedric's death. The only way I think I would ever stop blaming myself is if Cedric told me himself that he didn't blame me and of course that is not going to happen. After all, magic can do a lot of cool things, but one thing it cannot do is bring back the dead.

* * *

"I said, 'Who's there?'" the young man asked a second time as he grabbed his wand from the bedside table and held it up, ready to defend himself if necessary.

Ryan sighed and then said, "No need to be alarmed," as he removed the cloak.

"Who are you?"

"I could ask you the same question."

"I asked you first."

"I'm Ryan Cromwell."

"Oh, Ryan," the man said as he lowered his wand. "You're Matt's cousin from the States, right? My condolences on your grandmother."

"Yes, I'm Matt's cousin and thanks," Ryan said. "Are you going to tell me who you are? It would be nice to know who I'm thanking."

"Oh, sorry," the man said. "Name's Wood, Oliver Wood."

"A pleasure to meet you Oliver," Ryan said as he held out his hand and Oliver shook it. "You look rather familiar. You play professional Quidditch, don't you?"

"Yes," Oliver said, instantly lighting up at the mention of Quidditch, "I'm the reserve keeper for Puddlemere United. I only play when the normal keeper gets sick or injured and can't play, but I love it nonetheless."

"I knew I'd seen you somewhere before," Ryan said. "Must have been in a Quidditch magazine. Having been born here, I still followed the British Quidditch circuit despite living in the States. I have subscriptions to a few of the British magazines and must have seen an article about your signing."

"What's your favorite team?"

"It's a tie between the Magpies and Puddlemere actually," Ryan said. "My grandfather was a Puddlemere fan and grandmother was for the Magpies, so they raised me to like both."

Oliver nodded and then asked, "How long were you standing there under that cloak?"

Ryan just grinned and then said, "Long enough to know that my cousin has extremely good taste for having himself such a gorgeous and well-endowed boyfriend."

Oliver blushed several shades of red at the comment and then asked, "How do you know I'm Matt's boyfriend?"

"Oh please, Oliver," Ryan said. "It doesn't take much to figure it out. I mean, we are in Matt's bedroom and you were showering in his bathroom. The bed is turned down on both sides, the sheets are rumpled, and it's obvious that two people ate breakfast in bed this morning. Of course, the clincher is that I heard the two of you on my way down to breakfast this morning."

"You heard us?"

"Yes, I did," Ryan said still grinning. "You might want to think about a silencing charm next time you two go at it."

Blushing a shade of red comparable to a Weasley's hair, Oliver then said, "Okay, can we change the subject now?"

"Sure," Ryan said, "though I must admit you are quite cute when you blush. I haven't known you that long, but I can certainly see why Matt likes you so much. How long have you been together anyway?"

"Since our fourth year at Hogwarts," Oliver said as his cheeks began returning to normal. "So, almost seven years."

"Wow," Ryan said. "Seven years and Matt has never once mentioned having a boyfriend."

"We've been keeping it a secret."

"Why?"

"Well, mostly because of Matt's mom," Oliver said. "While the wizarding world has no problem with same-sex relationships, it isn't the same in the Muggle world and Matt's mom would have been furious if she'd found out Matt was gay, so we didn't tell anyone. We got so used to keeping it a secret that we kept it up after Matt's mom died."

"Surely my Uncle Charles knows at least?" Ryan said. "I can't imagine you two going at it in his house and him not knowing about it."

"No, he doesn't," Oliver said. "I maintain my own flat. Charles leaves early every morning for work, so I come over after he leaves and then Matt and I have breakfast and well, other things that you already know about."

"Yes, I do," Ryan said as Oliver started to blush a bit again and Ryan just chuckled.

* * *

Draco's Journal - August 23, 1996

Well, after two weeks of tropical paradise, I'm back at Malfoy Manor and its oppressive gloom. The manor is as immaculate and luxurious as it always has been, but over the last few years, my opinion of the manor has changed. I used to think that I was so lucky to be living in a house like Malfoy Manor and I couldn't wait until the day that I could take over as Lord of the Manor. As I get closer to adulthood though, the thought of raising a family in this place does not appeal to me. Perhaps it's all of the memories of Lucius everywhere or the memories of all the summer afternoons that I spent as a child locked away indoors studying things that a child had no business knowing when all I really wanted to do was go outside and play.

Of course, playing is something that I was never allowed to do. When I was a child, Lucius told me that playing and having fun were a waste of time and there were much better things I could be doing with my time. So, instead of having fun, I spent hour after hour sitting in my father's study listening to him preaching about Muggles, Half-Bloods, and Mudbloods—telling me why I should hate them and why I should join Voldemort in his glorious crusade to cleanse the world of their filth.

He said that all the wizards and witches who had decided to marry outside of all-magic families and marry a Muggle were forcing the entire Wizarding World into weakness and extinction by destroying the purity of magic blood. I know that many of the older pureblood families think that to mix magic blood with non-magic blood will weaken the magic blood, thus making the resulting child a less powerful wizard or witch. Only problem is that few people seem to realize that magic blood is very hard to kill off entirely. I mean, how else could Muggle-born witches and wizards exist? If you go far enough back in the family trees of a Muggle-born you'll find that they were descended from magical people. So, personally, I think magic is not in the blood but in the genes, which can then be dominant or recessive when passed onto the next generation. That theory would also explain the existence of squibs.

Of course, I never shared any of this research with Lucius, as he would be apt to do several things. One would be to tell me that I'm wrong, two would be to present a bunch of fancy words and explanations to try and falsify the research, and third, place me under the Cruciatus Curse as punishment for daring to even question what he had been teaching me. If it wasn't for my mother's love, I don't know how I would ever have survived as long as I have. Without her, I think I would have either been a cold and totally unfeeling jackass like Lucius or I simply would have been dead by now.

Well, at any rate, I can be thankful that Hogwarts starts soon and I can get out of this house. Hopefully I'll be lucky enough for Lucius not to arrive home from his business trip until after I've left for school. That's probably asking for too much, but one can hope, right? Oh well, one of the house-elves just came to tell me that Blaise has arrived. I'm sure he told my mother that he just wanted to welcome me home and ask how the trip was, but knowing him as well as I do, I'm sure he has other reasons for coming as well; reasons which will have us naked in my bed before he leaves. Not that I'm complaining or anything.

* * *

The next day, after Matt found out that Ryan knew about his orientation and Oliver, Matt was chatting with Ryan in the drawing room.

"So you're really okay with it?"

"For the millionth time, Matt, yes," Ryan said exasperatedly. "Oliver is a nice guy, and he obviously makes you happy."

"You're really, really okay with it?"

"Matthew William Cromwell, will you just shut up?" Ryan said as he held up his hand to show two of his fingers about an inch apart. "I am this close to breaking the Restriction for the Use of Underage Wizardry and casting a silencing charm on you, so shut up already! I am one hundred percent totally okay with your relationship with Oliver. I don't know why you keep wondering if I'm okay with it. I mean, you know the wizarding world doesn't care about things like that. Anyway, I'd be a hypocrite if I had a problem with you being gay, since I'm gay myself." 

"You're gay?"

"Is there an echo in here?" Ryan asked. "Yes, Matt, I'm gay. Single, but definitely gay."

"Well, maybe you'll get lucky and meet someone nice at Hogwarts," Matt said with a smile. "I know I did."

"I'm not going to hold my breath," Ryan said, "but if the possibility presents itself, I certainly won't say no to it. Any idea what the climate at Hogwarts is like, by the way?"

"Well, it's the Scottish highlands, so it's pretty cold."

"Matt, are you sure that you were a Ravenclaw?" Ryan asked. "I wasn't talking about the weather, you dolt. I meant, what is the gay population like at Hogwarts? As in very small or what?"

"Oh, well, things could have changed since I was there," Matt said, "but Oliver and I certainly weren't the only gay students."

"Anyone cute?"

"Well, there were Oliver's housemates, Bill and Charlie Weasley," Matt said. "I think they were both bisexual at least. Bill graduated when Oliver and I were second years and Charlie when we were fourth years."

"That's all good and all," Ryan said, "but is there anyone who would still be at Hogwarts that you know of who might be?"

"Well, there are always rumors," Matt said. "In a school as large as Hogwarts, you can barely go twenty minutes without hearing some rumor about who's dating who. Some people, namely in Slytherin, but also in other houses even run betting pools on who's dating who, who's going to date who, how long it will take certain people to get together, et cetera. During Oliver's and my seventh year, I'd say the most interesting pool I heard about would be the one involving..."  
Matt stopped short of what he was going to say when his father walked into the room. 

"Hello boys," Charles said with a smile.

"Hi Dad," Matt said at the same time Ryan said, "Hi Uncle."

Charles was wearing a deep blue cloak with black trim, so the fact that he was carrying Ryan's cloak wasn't immediately visible as it was hidden in the folds of his own cloak. Charles handed Ryan his cloak with a smile and said, "We're traveling to Hogwarts today, Ryan."

"Why? I thought school didn't start until September 1st?"

"Yes, it does," Charles answered, "but Headmaster Dumbledore owled me and asked me to bring you to his office today so that you can get sorted into a house. He figured you might feel a little out of place if you ended up being sorted with the first years at the arrival feast."

"Yes, that's probably true," Ryan said as he took his cloak and placed it over his shoulders. "Remind me again what exactly is involved in the sorting?"

"You just sit down and put on the Sorting Hat," Matt said. "It does the rest."

"Okay, so how are we getting to Hogwarts?"

"Well, come September 1st, I'll take you to King's Cross Station in London," Charles said, "and you'll take the Hogwarts Express to school. Today, however, I'm just going to apparate and you're going to Floo over to the village of Hogsmeade. Dumbledore said he'd have one of the school carriages waiting for us to bring us up to the school."

"Okay then," Ryan said as he walked over to the fireplace. "See ya later, Matt." Matt just nodded as Ryan took a handful of Floo powder from the vase on the mantle and then stepped into the fireplace. "Hogsmeade," Ryan said as he threw the powder down and soon disappeared in emerald green flames, shortly followed by a popping noise as Charles disapparated.

* * *

To be continued...


	3. Chapter 3

Harry Potter and the Return of the Heirs  
By J.C. Vascardi

* * *  
Chapter 3  
* * *

Arriving in Hogsmeade, Ryan dusted himself off and thought to himself how extraordinarily happy he'd be once he reached seventeen and would be able to get his apparition license. A popping noise nearby announced the arrival of his Uncle Charles, who quickly pulled out his wand and cast a cleaning charm on him, instantly removing any trace of soot from his clothes. 

Putting his wand back into a black dragon hide wand holder attached to his right arm, Charles motioned Ryan to follow him. Outside, Ryan caught his first glimpse of Hogwarts Castle up on the hill, overlooking the town and murmured, "Wow. That's the school?"

"Yes, it is," confirmed Charles. "Pretty impressive isn't it?"

"Yeah, definitely," Ryan responded as he followed his uncle through the streets.

"I'm sorry we don't have time to explore Hogsmeade, Ryan," Charles said, "but you will get your chance once school starts. All students from third year on up are allowed to come here on certain weekends throughout the school year."

"Yes, Matt mentioned that."

Charles just nodded as they continued walking. After another block or so, they came to the edge of town, where a large carriage stood waiting at the bottom of the road which led up the hill to the gates of Hogwarts. Two people, one who looked to be about Lucinda's age, the other, about Ryan's age, stood next to the carriage wearing emerald green cloaks.

"Hello," Charles called as they approached. "I'm Charles Cromwell, and this is my nephew, Ryan. You are?"

"Angelique Byrne," the older woman replied, "and this is my grandson, Nicolas Delaney. I take it your nephew is a new student as well?"

"Yes, I am," answered Ryan.

"Where did you go to school?" Nicolas asked as they got into the carriage.

"Asheville Academy of the Arcane."

"Not sure I've ever heard of that school," Nicolas said.

"It's one of the American wizarding schools," Ryan answered.

"So you're American?" Nicolas asked.

"No, I was born in Yorkshire," Ryan answered. "Lived there until I was ten, then my grandmother packed us up and we moved to Asheville, North Carolina. She died two weeks ago, so I had to move back."

"My condolences," Nicolas said.

"Thank you," Ryan replied as he smiled at Nicolas, who was certainly easy on the eyes. "What about you? Where did you go to school?"

"Beauxbatons Academy, in France."

"So what brought about your relocation to Hogwarts?"

"My grandmother is the new Care of Magical Creatures teacher here," Nicolas answered.

"Hmm, I wonder what happened to Hagrid," Charles commented.

"He got married and moved to France," Nicolas said.

"Is that so?" Charles asked.

"Yes, married Madame Maxime Olympe, the Headmistress of Beauxbatons," Professor Byrne responded. "Maxime and I were in school together, and have always been good friends. She knew that I wanted a change of scenery, so since magical creatures have always been my area of expertise, she owled Headmaster Dumbledore and told him that I'd be perfect to fill the position in her husband's absence. He later owled back saying the job was mine if I wanted it, so I'm now the Magical Creatures professor and Hogwarts gamekeeper." 

The rest of the trip to the castle was spent in relative silence. After several minutes, the carriage stopped, signaling that they'd arrived. Charles opened the door and stepped out before helping Professor Byrne out of the carriage, followed by Ryan and Nicolas. They were greeted by a woman wearing emerald green robes standing on the front steps, and Charles smiled, instantly recognizing Professor McGonagall.  
"Good Afternoon, Professor," Charles said as he stepped forward.

"Mr. Cromwell," Professor McGonagall replied with a nod and a hint of a smile.

"I hope you're well?" Charles asked.

"Yes, I am," answered McGonagall. "It's been awhile. My condolences regarding your mother, she will be dearly missed."

"Thank you," Charles murmured as he motioned Ryan to step forward, "I'd like you to meet my nephew. Ryan, this is Professor McGonagall, Transfiguration teacher, Head of Gryffindor House, and Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts. Professor, this is my nephew, Ryan Cromwell."

"A pleasure to meet you, Professor," Ryan said with a smile. "My cousin, Matthew, spoke very highly of you."

"Ah, yes, Matthew Cromwell," McGonagall commented. "Very talented, got an Outstanding in his Transfiguration NEWTs if I remember correctly."

"That he did," Charles confirmed with the smile of a proud parent. "Transfiguration was always one of his best subjects. Never very good at Potions though, which I must admit was rather disappointing, but oh, well, I guess a parent can't always expect their children to excel at the same things they do."

Turning to the others, McGonagall spoke to the woman, "Ah, you must be Professor Byrne."

"Yes, I am. It's a pleasure to meet you, Professor McGonagall. Allow me to present my grandson, Nicolas Delaney."

McGonagall nodded to Nicolas before continuing, "All right. Well, we mustn't keep the Headmaster waiting. He's a very busy man after all, so let's be off."   
With that, McGonagall turned and headed into the castle, with Charles, Professor Byrne, Nicolas, and Ryan following close behind.

* * *

Just as Draco had suspected, it wasn’t long after Blaise arrived in his bedroom at Malfoy Manor, that he found himself casting powerful locking and silencing charms on his room, before setting his wand on the nightstand and looking over at Blaise. “Nice to be pure-blood sometimes isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is,” Blaise agreed. “Living with an all-magic family, we do tend to be better informed on certain subjects.”

Draco nodded, before drawling, “Yes, for example the fact that while the Ministry can detect when magic is being used at a given location, they can’t detect who is actually using it.”

“Yeah, for all they know, it was your mother who just cast those silencing and locking charms. I guess we don’t have to worry about being interrupted by a warning letter from the Ministry.”

"Very true,” Draco agreed. “Oh well, let’s just fuck.”

Reaching for his wand, Draco waved his wand over Blaise’s abdomen and muttered the incantation for the cleaning charm that was suggested be used prior to anal intercourse in the book, ‘A Wizard’s Guide to Sex with other Wizards.’ Draco and Blaise were quite glad that they took the time to read it before their first time, because it offered many tips on what to do and want not to do that made the whole process a lot easier and less painful for both of them. Draco waved his wand again to cast a lubrication charm, before he returned his wand to the nightstand.

"Ready?"

"That's a stupid question."

"I'll take that as a yes," Draco said as he positioned himself and then pushed forward into the warm, tight confines of Blaise's ass.

"Damn Blaise," Draco moaned. "You'd think that with as many times as we've done this, you would have loosened up a little bit."

"I could say the same thing about you, Dray," Blaise said. "You're still as tight as the first time we did this last year."

"You ready to continue?" Draco asked, choosing to ignore the fact that Blaise called him Dray, a nickname that he did not particularly care for. Despite the fact that he didn't love Blaise in that way, and this was really only a means of helping each other keep their raging hormones under control, Draco still gave Blaise a chance to adjust to the invasion, since he didn't want to hurt the closest person he had to a friend.

Blaise just nodded, so Draco eased his way in further until he was buried to the hilt inside the boy beneath him. What followed was a collection of moans and groans as the two teenage boys satisfied their needs at a frenzied pace.

* * *

"Ah, welcome to Hogwarts," Dumbledore said as McGonagall walked into his office with Charles, Ryan, Professor Byrne, and Nicolas. "If you will all please have a seat, we'll get started." He paused, indicating the chairs before his desk, and they sat down. "Would anyone like some tea? Or perhaps a lemon drop?"

Charles, Ryan, and Nicolas accept Dumbledore's offer of tea, while McGonagall and Byrne politely declined. Dumbledore conjured three cups and then popped a lemon drop into his mouth while the others took their tea. For a few moments, nothing was said and then finally, Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling as always, spoke up. "Well, as you know, we are here today to get young Mr. Cromwell and Mr. Delaney sorted into houses. Normally, this would be done at the arrival feast in front of the whole school, but seeing as how the two of you are transferring into Hogwarts as sixth year students, I thought that you might feel a little awkward standing in front of the student body to be sorted with the incoming first years.

"Now, let me tell you a little bit about how Hogwarts works. In case you don't already know, the four houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. While you're here, your house will be like your family. You will sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room. Normally, we would tell new students that they would also have classes with the rest of their house, which is true, since it will be very likely that you will have members of your house in at least some of your classes. However, as sixth-year students your O.W.L. results determine which advanced classes you are eligible to take. Since not every student excels in all areas, you will not necessarily be attending all of your classes with all of your housemates who are in the same year, as you would have done in years past."

Dumbledore paused to conjure himself a cup of tea and took a sip before continuing. "Now, let’s get back to the subject of sorting. Each house has qualities that it holds in high regard, and the Sorting Hat will determine which house it thinks you belong in based on those qualities. For example, Gryffindor values bravery, so if the hat judges someone to be exceptionally brave, they will likely find themselves in Gryffindor. Ravenclaw values intelligence, Hufflepuff values loyalty, and Slytherin values cunning. Now, Minerva, if you would be so kind as to place the hat on Mr. Cromwell's head, we will begin."

"Of course, Albus," McGonagall replied as she picked up the hat and placed it on Ryan's head.

Ryan instantly felt the hat come to life, and heard it talking in his mind, just as his uncle and Matt had told him he would.

"Ah, Mr. Cromwell, you are a bit older than what I am used to," the Sorting Hat said. "Your mind is a bit harder to read than a first year's, but I think I can manage anyway. Now, let's see here, I see that you are very bright and that you enjoy reading quite a bit. I also see a certain amount of cunningness. Your intelligence would suggest Ravenclaw to be best, although you may also find Slytherin to be a good home."

"Well, most of my family has been in Ravenclaw for generations," Ryan thought. "So, I think I'd prefer to follow in that tradition if possible. While I'm sure that Slytherin is nice, and I'll be the first to admit that I can be cunning when I want to be, I've always thought of my intelligence as my best trait."

"Well, then, Mr. Cromwell, I shall put you in," the Sorting Hat said before shouting, "RAVENCLAW!"

Dumbledore and Charles applauded as McGonagall lifted the Sorting Hat from Ryan's head and then placed it on Nicolas' head.

"Hmm, Mr. Delaney, where shall I put you? You seem to possess many of the traits that all four houses value. You are intelligent, which would suggest Ravenclaw. You are also brave and loyal, which would suggest Gryffindor or Hufflepuff. I also see a certain amount of cunning in your personality, which would suggest Slytherin. Hmm, let's see here, you also appear to have quite a bit of ambition and that coupled with your cunning makes me think that you would do best in… SLYTHERIN!"

Dumbledore, Byrne, and Charles applaud and Ryan looked to Nicolas and said, "Well, I guess we won't be housemates, but I do hope that we can still be friends, Nicolas."

"I'd like that, Ryan," Nicolas replied with a smile as McGonagall lifted the Sorting Hat from his head. "Please call me Nick. That's what all of my friends in France used to call me."

"Okay, Nick," Ryan said and smiled. "You can call me, Ry."

"You do this school proud," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling madly. "If we are to survive this dark time, the members of all the houses must lay to rest all of the old rivalries and unite. I am pleased that the two of you have already begun that most vital of tasks. Now, I bid you all good day,” and looking at Professor Byrne, Ryan, and Nicolas, he continued, “and I look forward to seeing you three back here on September the First." 

McGonagall showed everyone out of the office, leaving Dumbledore to continue his work.

* * *

Draco fell asleep after Blaise left, and it wasn't long after that, unfortunately, that his subconscious began working, and forcing him to relive an event from his past...

Six-year-old Draco Malfoy was sitting alone in his bedroom. Unlike most children his age, he wasn't allowed to go outside and play. He rarely ever saw the outdoors. So when his father came in and told him they were going out for a while, Draco was overjoyed. Outside, Draco followed Lucius down one of the paths in the formal gardens, just happy to be outdoors rather than cooped up inside the Manor. It wasn't long however, before Draco's good mood slipped when he saw where his father was going: the Malfoy Family Mausoleum.

Looking up at the imposing edifice before him, Draco couldn't help but shudder. He had never liked coming to the mausoleum, but then what six-year-old would? Lucius walked up the stone steps and cast the necessary charm to unlock and open the massive stone doors. The torches lit by themselves as Lucius and Draco walked in, revealing a large and ornate room. Straight ahead, were two life-size, gold statues of Armand and Angelique Malfoy standing atop black marble pedestals, and at the foot, rested their matching gold sarcophaguses. 

Armand and Angelique, who had lived and died about a thousand years ago, built the original Malfoy Manor and the family mausoleum. Most of the current house, known as Malfoy Manor, was not build by Armand and Angelique. The original house had been changed and added on to several times over the years. The only parts of the estate that remained the same as they were in Armand and Angelique's day, were the family mausoleum and a small section of the west wing of the mansion itself, which housed the library and Lucius' study.

On the walls surrounding the room, Draco could see the names of Armand and Angelique's children and grandchildren. Behind the statues was a large archway, which Draco knew led to the stairs that descended down into the depths of the tomb, and he couldn't help but shudder again when he realized that was where Lucius was taking him. As they descended further and further below ground, Draco began to shiver from both cold and a growing sense of dread, since he had never ventured this far into the tomb before. Reaching the bottom of the stairs after what seemed like hours, Draco found himself in a large room that was just as ornate as the room at the top. In the center of the room, were two more life-size, gold statues standing atop marble pedestals, except that these statues were of his mother and father.

Draco watched as Lucius walked over to his statue and muttered something he couldn't hear. The wall behind the statues soon slid open and Lucius said, "Wait here."

Draco knew better to argue with his father, even if he was scared out of his mind at the thought of being left alone in the family tomb. Lucius went through the opening in the wall, and returned a few moments later with a large black sack. Walking over to Draco, Lucius opened the sack and dumped its contents onto the ground.

"Puppies!" Draco cried gleefully as he knelt down to get a better look at the small black and white animals.

A grunt from his father caught Draco's attention and he looked up to see that his father's face had hardened into a cold sneer. Even at the tender age of six, Draco knew that look meant that Lucius was extremely displeased with him.

"What have I told you about showing emotions, boy?" Lucius asked in a low, cruel voice.

"Emotions are a sign of weakness, and Malfoy men must never be weak," Draco recited after a moment of thought.

"Yet, you still showed emotion when you saw these little beasts," Lucius said as he kicked the smallest of the puppies, which whimpered loudly at the contact.

Not thinking of the consequences, Draco cried out, "Daddy, please don't hurt the puppy!" He picked up the puppy that Lucius kicked, and cradled it lovingly in his arms.

"What have I told you about using that filthy name?" Lucius admonished. "I demand you show me the proper respect and call me 'Father'!"

"Father, please, don't hurt him," Draco cried again as he gently scratched behind one of the puppy's ears.

"I'm not going to hurt the puppy, Draco," Lucius said. "You're going to hurt the puppy. Actually, you're going to kill it."

"What? No! I won't kill it!" Draco cried. "Father, please don't make me kill it!"

"Draco, you will do as I say," Lucius said in a cold and unfeeling tone. "That runt is the weakest, and therefore must be exterminated. It's survival of the fittest. The same goes for us, Draco. It’s our duty, as purebloods, to exterminate all those who are weaker than us. That means Muggles, Half-Bloods and Mudbloods."

"Father, no! I won't kill the puppy, and you can't make me!" Draco cried and tears began to roll down his cheeks as he continued to lovingly hug the small puppy as it licked his hand.

"That is where you are wrong, Draco," Lucius said as he pulled out his wand and pointed it at his son. "Imperio! Now, kill it!"

Draco hesitated for a moment as he desperately tried to fight against the spell, and not obey his father. It was an exercise in futility however, and tears were pouring from Draco's slate-grey eyes as he began to strangle the puppy. The small legs were kicking wildly as it tried to defend itself, but it couldn't since Draco was larger and stronger then it was. The small creature let out a strangled whimper and then stopped moving all together. Draco set the puppy on the ground and then burst into sobs when he realized what he had done.

Lucius glared at his son and yelled, "You're showing emotion again, you weak little bastard! Crucio!"

Draco awoke covered in a cold sweat, and let out a quiet scream as his father's words echoed in his mind. He began to pant, trying to calm himself when he realized where he was. Soon, tears began to roll down his cheeks over the memory of what his father had forced him to do on that summer morning, ten years ago. Draco pulled his legs up to his chest and buried his head as he continued to sob, eventually crying himself back to sleep.

* * *

Harry was sitting alone in the master suite of Grimmauld Place. Once Sirius' will had been read, Molly and Arthur had insisted that Harry move into the room, since he was now the owner of the house. Truth be told, while Harry did enjoy sharing a room with Ron, he was also happy to have his own at last. Harry was sitting on the bed, lost in his thoughts, when there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," Harry called as he snapped back to reality.

"Hey Harry."

"Hello," Harry said with a smile as his guest closed the door.

"What are you up to?"

"Just thinking."

"Anything in particular?"

"Before I answer that question," Harry said, a sly grin on his face, "Why don't you put your curse-breaking skills to good use, and make sure we aren't disturbed?"

"No problem, Harry," Bill replied with a grin, and proceeded to cast several highly complex locking and silencing charms on the room. "All finished."

"Thanks Bill," Harry said, and his smile got wider as he patted a place next to him on the bed. "Now, why don't you come over here and I'll tell you exactly what I was thinking about."

Bill grinned as he walked over and sat down beside Harry. "Who would of thought it? Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, having dirty thoughts about his best friend's older brother."

"Are you complaining?" Harry asked.

"Did I say that?" Bill countered as he leaned over and then placed a kiss on Harry's lips.

Before Bill had even managed to pull an inch away from the raven-haired teen, Harry pushed him onto his back and was soon lying on top of the older red-head, kissing him with the kind of passion that only a hormonal teenager can muster. 

Starting shortly after Harry's fourth year, Bill and Harry began to exchange lots of owls, and the two became good friends. During fifth year, when Umbridge began monitoring all of the incoming mail, Harry and Bill hardly heard from each other since, by that time, the letters had begun to get quite personal, and neither wanted Umbridge to read about their personal thoughts and feelings.

After fifth year ended, Bill came over to the Dursleys' to check on Harry occasionally. It was then that they started their relationship, if you can call it that. Neither one of them thought of the other as anything more than a very good friend, even though their activities would lead some to think otherwise. 

For a long time, Harry had been denying what he now knew to be true: that he was gay. He didn't want to admit it to himself because he knew that the majority of people frowned on such things. Uncle Vernon for example, had, as long as Harry could remember, preached on the evils of homosexuality and how he thought everyone who was homosexual should be locked away in an institution, far away from all of the decent, normal people.

Even though he knew that it was irrational for thinking such things, for a long time Harry felt as if he was the only person in the world experiencing the feelings that he was having. He felt so alone, and with nobody around to talk about it to, he figured that if he pushed it down far enough, he could be normal. 

That was the reason his romance with Cho Chang turned disastrous. He had convinced himself that if he could just date her, then he'd be normal and the feelings he'd been having would some how, magically disappear as if they'd never existed. After the kiss he shared with Cho however, Harry began to realize that trying to deny his feelings was rather futile.

It was Bill, who helped Harry come to terms with them. Once their letters got personal, Bill felt that he should be totally honest with Harry, and told him that he was gay. Reading those words on the parchment was an experience that Harry would probably never forget, and he felt like a weight had somehow been lifted off of his shoulders. He no longer felt alone in the world, and it wasn't long, with Bill's help, that Harry accepted the fact that he was gay. It also wasn't long afterward, that Bill's visits to Privet Drive became more frequent. The Dursleys were none too pleased with Harry for having a frequent visitor, much less a wizard. However, despite any qualms they may have had about it, they were afraid that if they told the man Harry introduced as Bill, to leave and never come back, that they'd be getting a visit from that strange old man with the spinning eye.

None of them could forget the day they picked Harry up at King's Cross Station, and met Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody. The Dursleys were still terrified of the man, and if they had to deal with a wizard coming to check in on Harry, they agreed that they preferred Bill. Vernon didn't really approve of his long hair or his shark tooth earring, but he could deal with that as long as he didn't have to see that other man's spinning eyeball again. Not only did Bill keep Harry's relatives from bothering him too much for most of the summer, he also spent quite a bit of time with Harry in his bedroom. If it hadn't been for the locking and silencing charms that Bill cast on the room during those times, Vernon would have been extremely angry to know just what was going on in his house.

* * *

"Wake up, you miserable, ungrateful little toad!" Lucius Malfoy shouted as he barged into his son's bedroom the following morning.

Draco, who had been fast asleep, sat bolt upright in bed when he heard his father shouting. As his father crossed the room, Draco quickly climbed out of bed wearing only his favorite pair of green silk, silver snake embroidered boxers.

"Good morning, father," said Draco as he stood beside his bed.

"Don't 'good morning' me, you pathetic little wretch!" Lucius screamed. "You'll be starting back to school soon, and I'm warning you now, boy. This year had better be different. I had better not pick you up from school at the end of the year and find out, that once again, you've allowed that filthy mudblood to beat you academically!"

"Father, I did get Outstanding on all of my O.W.L.s," Draco whined.

"That fact is the only reason I haven't killed you yet!" Lucius exclaimed.   
"However, for the last five years you have consistently been the second best student in your year. I might consider not being quite as angry if you were being beaten by a pureblood, but a filthy mudblood?!"

"Granger is just very smart. She really should have been in Ravenclaw instead of Gryffindor."

"Shut up, no excuses! You're a pureblood and she's a mudblood. You're superior to her, and it should be you who's the number one student in your year."

"I try, really I do."

"Obviously not hard enough," Lucius reprimanded, and he raised his wand, pointing it at his son. "Perhaps it's time for another reminder of just how displeased I am with you."

"No, father, please no!" Draco pleaded, but it was too late.

"Crucio!"

Draco's knees gave way, and he collapsed to the ground in immense pain. He tried for several minutes not to cry out, but as the pain coursing through his body continued to worsen, he just couldn't stand it anymore and began screaming in agony. Lucius laughed as Draco screamed and writhed around on the floor. Draco was screaming so loudly that Lucius didn't hear the sound of footsteps running up the stairs. Narcissa Malfoy ran into the room and took in the sight before her with a horrified expression on her face. Having come running the second she heard Draco cry out, she hadn't even grabbed her wand in her haste to come see what was wrong with her beloved son. Despite that, she couldn't allow this to continue, and was thankful for the time she had spent learning how to perform some spells without a wand. Striding forward, she pointed at Draco and said, "Finite Incantatem!"

"Narcissa, get out of here!" Lucius bellowed as he turned towards his wife, while Draco stopped screaming and curled up into the fetal position.

"No!" Narcissa said firmly, in defiance of her husband. "I will not stand here and let you torture my son!"

"Your son? He is MY son, Narcissa!" Lucius yelled. "You may have carried him, but I'll be damned if I will let you corrupt him. You're always pampering him and treating him like a little prince. Well, no more!"

"Don't you dare tell me how to raise my son!" Narcissa screamed, her anger making her forget that fighting with her armed, Death Eater-husband might not be the best idea, especially considering that she was unarmed and only capable of performing a handful of simple spells without her wand.

"You stupid, weak little bitch!" Lucius shouted again. "This is your last warning. Get out of here!"

Enraged that Lucius would use the Cruciatus Curse on her beloved son, and further angered that he would call her a bitch, Narcissa slapped Lucius across the face and said, "Go to the Hells!"

"Oh, you will regret that!" Lucius exclaimed as he raised his wand at Narcissa. "Avada Kedavra!"

Time seemed to slow down considerably as the jet of green light emitted from Lucius' wand, and shot forth toward Narcissa's heart.

"No!" Draco screamed, as the look of shock and horror on Narcissa's face became permanent as she dropped to the floor, dead. "No!" Draco shrieked again as he looked over at his mother's corpse.

"Shut up, boy," Lucius yelled. "Unless you want to join her!"

"Expelliarmus!"

Lucius' wand flew from his hand and he spun quickly on his heel to see who had disarmed him. Recognizing the lone man standing in the doorway of Draco's bedroom, he exclaimed, "You!"

"Yes, me, Lucius," shouted Charles Cromwell.

"What are you doing here?"

"I've come to collect Draco."

"You have no right to take him anywhere."

"On the contrary," Charles replied, "I have every right. I just witnessed you casting the killing curse on your own wife. You're off to Azkaban, Lucius, and I doubt you'll be able to escape again now that the Ministry has dragons guarding it!"

"Oh, I'm shaking," Lucius spat back. "Who's going to send me? You?"

"You forget yourself, Lucius," Charles said. "You never beat me once in a duel when we were in school, so even if you weren't unarmed, you couldn't stand against me."

Lucius raised his hand towards him and said, "Oh really, cousin Charles? Accio wand!"

Just as it was in their school days, Charles was quicker and cast a charm to deflect Lucius' summoning charm, before casting a charm of his own.

"Stupefy!"

A jet of red light shot forth from Charles' wand and hit Lucius, causing him to fall to the floor next to Narcissa's corpse, stunned. Charles then knelt beside Draco "It's okay, Draco. You're safe now."

"Who are you?" Draco asked, having never met Charles before.

"It's a long story," Charles said, "one that I will tell you later, but in a nutshell, I'm your father's cousin, Charles. You'll be living with me from now on."

"You won't hurt me, will you?" Draco asked, not wanting to feel the Cruciatus curse ever again.

"No, of course not," Charles said as he recognized the after effects of the Cruciatus curse, and ran a hand gently through Draco's hair, attempting to calm him down a bit. "I'm an Auror, so I certainly am not going to hurt you. Now, why don't you get dressed?"

Draco nodded as he stood up and began dressing. Charles noticed Draco's trunk sitting off to one side of the room. "Pack," he muttered with a wave of his wand, and Draco's schoolbooks, clothes, and other belongings began to pack themselves. It wasn't long before another person entered the room with their wand drawn.

"Ah, Kingsley, good to see you," Charles said. "If you'd be so kind, as to make sure that Lucius gets to Azkaban for torturing his son and killing his wife, I would appreciate it."

"Of course," Kingsley Shacklebolt replied, before pointing his wand at Lucius' still form, and said two spells in rapid succession.

"Mobilicorpus! Incarcerous!" Then, he left the room with Lucius' bound body floating along behind him.

"Let's go, Draco," Charles said. Then, he pointed his wand at Draco's now packed trunk and said, "Locomotor trunk!"

Draco's trunk lifted off the floor and Draco followed Charles from the room, the charmed trunk following behind them.

To be continued...


	4. Chapter 4

Harry Potter and the Return of the Heirs  
By J.C. Vascardi

* * *  
Chapter Four  
* * *

Minutes after the tragedy at Malfoy Manor, Draco emerges from the fireplace in the drawing room of Cromwell Hall, followed shortly there after by a loud pop as Charles apparates into the room.

"Welcome to Cromwell Hall, Draco," Charles said. "I think you will be comfortable here until school starts."

"Thanks for getting me out of there," Draco said, "and for dealing with father."  
Before Charles can say anything else, Matthew and Oliver walk into the room, but seeing as how they are busy kissing each other as they're walking, they don't notice Draco or Charles standing in the room until Charles clears his throat.

Matthew pulls away from Oliver and spins around to see his father standing there, along with Draco Malfoy. "Father! I didn't expect you home at this time of day. What is Malfoy doing here?"

"Draco will be living here now," Charles said and held up a hand to his son. "I can tell by the look on your face that you would like an explanation as to why Draco will be living here. I will gladly give that explanation, although first I think you owe me an explanation."

"Oh, well, um, you see dad, I'm gay."

"Yes, I guessed that much."

"Yeah, well, Oliver is my boyfriend," Matthew said.

"Fiance actually," Oliver said as he wrapped an arm around Matthew's waist. "I'm sorry we didn't tell you, sir, but we were keeping it a secret because of Matt's mom."

Charles nodded and then said, "Yes, that was probably a good thing. Katrina would have had your head on a platter if she'd found out you were gay, Matthew. She was mad enough as it is when I refused to pull you out of Hogwarts after your second year so that you could start at Eton."

"Oh I remember those fights," Matthew said as he thought back. "She was furious with you for weeks. Figured that after two years of education at Hogwarts I'd learned enough to control my powers and should then go and have a proper British education."

"Yes, well, Matthew if being with Oliver makes you happy, then so be it. Welcome to the family, Oliver. Barin!"

A moment later, the house-elf Barin appears in the room with a pop and says, "What can Barin do for you, Master Charles?"

"Please tell my nephew to floo down here immediately," Charles said. "I have to be getting back to work soon and I need to tell him something before I go so having him floo down is faster than walking down here."

"Yes, Master Charles," Barin said as he disappeared.

"Why don't we all sit down," Charles said. "Once Ryan gets here, I'll explain what Draco is doing here. I assume Ryan knows about you and Oliver, Matthew?"

"Yes, I know about them," Ryan said as he stepped out of the fireplace. "I've known since yesterday."

"Matthew, I'm wounded," Charles said with a grin on his face to say that he was only kidding. "Telling your cousin Ryan, who you've barely seen in six years, before your own father?"

"Well, they didn't actually tell me," Ryan said as he walked over. "I put it together on my own after I um, well, suffice it to say that Matthew and Oliver really need to learn to use a silencing charm when engaging in certain activities."

"Ryan!" Oliver and Matthew exclaimed in unison, as they both turned several shades of red.

"I didn't need to know that," Charles said with a sigh. "Anyway, let's get down to business. Ryan, as you probably don't already know, this is Draco Malfoy."

"Pleased to meet you," Ryan said as he sat down on a nearby armchair.

"You might want to rethink that," Oliver mumbled, but loud enough that Charles heard it.

"Oliver, if you are going to be a member of this family," Charles said, "I'd really appreciate it if you would refrain from insulting it's members."

"Members?" Matthew asked. "Malfoy is family? How?"

"Draco," Charles said stressing the name to tell everyone they should stop calling him by his surname, "is your second cousin, Matthew, Ryan. You see your late grandmother Lucinda's maiden name was Malfoy. She was the sister of Abraxas Malfoy, who is Lucius Malfoy's father and Draco's grandfather."

"I don't recall father ever mentioning an Aunt Lucinda."

"I'm not surprised, Draco," Charles said. "Your family disowned my mother. They had never seen eye to eye on anything and they were furious when she was sorted into Ravenclaw, instead of Slytherin. The last straw came when she had two brief romances with people that they did not agree with, followed by her marriage to my father, William Cromwell, whom they also didn't agree with."

"Who?" Matthew asked, honestly curious, since his grandmother never gave many details about her time as a student.

"Well, the second romance was with Jonathan Potter," Charles said. "Harry Potter's grandfather. The first one, well, I'm not sure I really want to talk about that one. It turns my stomach to know that my mother was ever involved with him."

"It can't be that bad," Ryan said.

"Oh it can be, trust me," Charles said.

"Come on, dad," Matthew said, "the way you're talking you almost make it sound like grandmother was involved with Voldemort."

When Charles didn't say anything to dispute his son's comment, Ryan asked, "She wasn't was she?"

"Well, yes, actually, she was," Charles said finally. "He wasn't known as Voldemort then, of course, but yes, as much as it sickens me to say it, your grandmother was romantically involved with him for about a year."

"I can't imagine my family having a problem with that," Draco said. "I mean he was a Slytherin right? I would have thought they would have been pleased."

"Draco, have you ever heard the name Riddle?"

"No, I can't say as I have. It's not a pureblood family, that much I know."

"You're right, it isn't," Charles said.

"What does that have to do with You-Know-Who though?" Draco asked.

"Well, during his school days, he wasn't known as Lord Voldemort you know," Charles said. "While he was a student at Hogwarts he went by his real name, Tom Riddle. His mother was a witch, but his father was a Muggle."

"Ah, I see why my family had a problem with it now," Draco said. "Dating a half-blood breaks about half a dozen rules listed in the Malfoy Family Code of Conduct."

"Code of Conduct?" Oliver asked. "You mean your family actually has written rules that dictate you should act like a stuck-up prick?"

"Oliver, I thought I told you not to insult members of this family," Charles said.

"It's okay," Draco said. "I fully admit that I've acted very badly. Oliver has every right to not like me."

"Yes, well, I think under the circumstances, he should show you a little compassion."

"What circumstances?"

"Well, Ryan," Charles said, "it all has to do with why Draco will be living here now. You see I've just come from Malfoy Manor, where I was witness to Draco's father, Lucius, using the Killing Curse on his mother, Narcissa, while Draco was curled up on the floor watching. Judging by his position, I'm guessing he was recovering from the effects of the Cruciatus Curse."

Matthew, Oliver, and Ryan all visibly paled upon hearing this news and Draco brought his legs up onto the sofa and buried his face in his knees as he began to cry. Ryan quickly crossed the room, sat down next to Draco, and wrapped him up in a comforting embrace. Draco resisted at first, but finally gave in as he started to sob into Ryan's shoulder, as Ryan gently rubbed his back.

Once Charles saw that Ryan seemed to have the situation under control, he stood up and said, "Well, as much I'd like to stay, I really have to get back to work and file my report about what happened today. I'll see you all later," Charles added as he disapparated.

* * *

About three hours later, Molly Weasley was standing in the front parlor of Grimmauld Place when Percy's owl, Hermes, flew through the window and landed on the back of a nearby chair. Molly took a rolled up parchment and what looked like a copy of the Daily Prophet from the owl's outstretched leg and gave it an owl treat before it flew out the window.

Unrolling the parchment, Molly soon noticed that it was written on Daily Prophet letterhead.

From the Desk of Percival Ignatius Weasley  
Managing Editor, Daily Prophet

Mom,  
Thought you should tell Dumbledore what's happened, if he doesn't already know. Here's a special edition of the Daily Prophet which will be coming out shortly.  
Love, Percy

P.S. Thanks for the dinner invitation, I'd be glad to come over. I'll see you tonight.

A few weeks after his family had accepted him back and he had joined the Order, Percy began to seriously rethink his priorities in life and decided that the job of Junior Undersecretary to the Minister, while certainly prestigious, was not for him. So, he asked to be transferred back to the Department of International Magical Cooperation. The Minister refused his request and even wanted to promote him into Umbridge's old job as Special Assistant to the Minister, but since it was his loyalty to Fudge that had almost cost him his family forever, the thought of becoming Fudge's puppet did not appeal to him. So, in a move that stunned his family, Percy tendered his resignation from the Ministry and went to work as a typesetter for the Daily Prophet. It wasn't long after Percy started working there that the Daily Prophet's Publisher took a liking to him and his work ethic and promoted him to the vacant position of Managing Editor, seeing as how Percy was highly over-qualified for the typesetter job. Percy was also made the heir apparent to become Publisher himself upon the retirement of the current one, since Percy was the most qualified person on staff to take the position.

Setting the note from her son aside, Molly then unrolled the special edition of the Daily Prophet and gasped as she read the headline:

Daily Prophet  
Special Edition - August 24, 1996  
ESCAPED DEATH EATER LUCIUS MALFOY RECAPTURED  
Arrested on charges of spousal murder and child abuse.

It has come to our attention that shortly after nine this morning, Lucius Malfoy, who had escaped from Azkaban shortly after the mass revolt of the Dementors, was taken into custody at his home after casting the Killing curse on his wife, Narcissa Black Malfoy. We've discovered that his casting of the curse was witnessed by the couple's sixteen-year-old son, Draco, as well as Lucius' estranged cousin, Auror Charles Cromwell, the son of the late retired Auror Lucinda Cromwell, the sister of Lucius' father.

Mr. Cromwell says that he's had very little contact with his Malfoy relatives over the years and this was in fact the first time since their graduation from Hogwarts that he had talked with Lucius Malfoy. He says that there has always been a rift between the two branches of the family, ever since Lucinda Malfoy married his father, the late William Cromwell, a union which the Malfoy family did not approve of.

Young Mr. Malfoy was unavailable for comment, but Mr. Cromwell issued the following statement, "I went to Malfoy Manor because we had received intelligence that Lucius Malfoy was at the manor and was using one of the Unforgivable Curses. I arrived just in time to witness my cousin casting the Killing curse on Narcissa, so I quickly disarmed and stunned him so he could be taken into custody. I later found out from Draco that his mother had been trying to protect him from Lucius, whom had been using the Cruciatus curse on him."

Newly-appointed Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, the former Head of the Auror Office at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, has confirmed that the last two spells cast with Mr. Malfoy's wand were indeed the Cruciatus and Killing curses. As a result, Mr. Malfoy has earned himself a one-way ticket back to Azkaban Prison. Due to the mass revolt of the Dementors, the Ministry has recently acquired two Welsh Greens, a Hungarian Horntail, and a Norwegian Ridgeback to act as guards at the prison.

We here at the Daily Prophet would all like to extend our deepest sympathies to Draco for the tragic loss of his mother. 

"Is something wrong Molly?" McGonagall asked as she entered the room.

"Minerva, oh, it's just awful."

"What is it?" McGonagall asked as she walked closer to her former student.  
"Percy sent me this advance copy of a special edition of the Prophet," Molly said as she held it up. "Lucius Malfoy was arrested at his mansion this morning."

"Why would you say that was awful?"

"Because he was arrested after using the Killing curse on Narcissa," Dumbledore said as he entered the room.

"Albus!" Molly said, as both women turned to see the Headmaster standing there. "You knew?"

"I just came from the Ministry," Dumbledore said. "I was in a meeting with Minister Scrimgeour when Kingsley brought Lucius in. It seems that Charles Cromwell witnessed Lucius casting the curse on Narcissa, with Draco watching. According to Charles and Kingsley, it would seem that Narcissa was trying to protect Draco from Lucius, who had been using the Cruciatus on him for reasons unknown."

"Oh my, that poor boy," McGonagall said. "It's sad to think of one so young having the Cruciatus cast on him, but even worse for a child to have to witness their own mother's murder, especially when their father is the murderer."  
"Yes, it is," Dumbledore nodded in agreement. "Charles has taken Draco to his home in Yorkshire. Seeing as how Charles' mother was Lucius' aunt, the Minister has appointed him as Draco's guardian, until he turns seventeen next year."

"Well, as sad as it is," McGonagall said, "this may actually be a good thing."

"How is that, Minerva?"

"Well, Molly, with Draco living with Charles, it's possible that we'll begin to see a new Draco Malfoy. It's also very likely that Voldemort has just lost a potential follower. One less Death Eater to worry about is always a good thing in my opinion."

Molly and Dumbledore simply nod in agreement to McGonagall's statement.

* * *

"That idiot!" screamed Voldemort as he tossed the special edition of the Daily Prophet into the nearby fireplace. "He knows how short-handed I am right now and then he goes and gets himself carted off to Azkaban."

"Maybe it's for the best."

"What was that Goyle?" Voldemort said as he looked over at his follower.

"I just said that maybe it was for the best," Goyle said. "Lucius told me that Narcissa was always undermining his attempts to get Draco to follow you, so maybe now that she's dead..."

"Are you a total idiot, Goyle?" Voldemort shouted at him. "Draco is living with Charles Cromwell now. Do you expect me to just waltz into the private home of an Auror and take him? Not to mention the fact that Charles is the son of Lucinda Malfoy Cromwell. I went to school with that wretched bitch, so I know first hand how powerful she was, even as a teenager. She may be dead now, but I'm not stupid enough to think that she didn't teach her son everything she knew."

"I didn't know that."

"Of course you didn't, you pea brain," Voldemort screamed as he raised his wand and pointed it at Goyle, before adding, "and for talking when nobody was talking to you, Crucio!"

Goyle dropped to his knees as a wave of pain washed over his body. Most people might scream from it, but all of Voldemort's Death Eaters have learned not to scream when he inflicts pain on them because it'll only make him even angrier. Or madder, depending on how you look at it, considering that most people, including some of his Death Eaters have begun to think Voldemort is quite insane, not that they'd ever dare to tell him that. After a moment, Voldemort stopped the curse and yelled, "Get out of my sight. Wormtail!"  
Goyle quickly exits the room, as the man known as Wormtail, or Peter Pettigrew, scurried over to his master's side.

"I want you to arrange for a strike party," Voldemort said as he repeatedly clenched and unclenched his bony fingers into fists. "We need to strike the boat taking prisoners to Azkaban and free Lucius. I don't care if you have to send every Dementor we have, but we must get him before that boat reaches Azkaban. We do not have the resources at the moment to organize a full-scale prison break now that the Ministry has four dragons guarding the fortress."

"Yes my Lord," Wormtail said with a bow as he turned to leave.

"Oh and Wormtail?"

"Yes my Lord?" Wormtail asked as he turned again to face his master.

"You had better succeed," Voldemort said, his ominous red eyes flashing cold fury, "or I will make you wish you had never been born!"

* * *

Draco's Journal - August 25, 1996

I still can't believe that my mother is gone. She didn't deserve to die. Oh Gods, my mother is dead. Why? Why?! Oh if my jackass of a sire were here right now I know he'd probably want to kill me right now, considering that I'm sitting here crying my eyes out as I write this. As the Gods as my witnesses, I swear if I ever see that man ever again, I will not be held responsible for my actions. He deserves to die a very slow and very painful death for what he's done to my mother! I can hear my mother's voice in my head, saying that I shouldn't let my anger consume me and I know that she's right but, right now my emotional wounds are just too fresh.

I am thankful for my sire's cousin Charles getting me out of there. He certainly seems like a nice person. Ryan, Matthew, and even Oliver all comforted me after Charles left for work. Ryan told me that he especially knows how I'm feeling right now, since he recently lost his grandmother, who had raised him from birth like her own child. He said that he can't possibly imagine how painful it must have been to actually witness my mother's death, but he could understand how painful it is to lose one's mother, nonetheless. Matthew also understands the pain, as he lost his own mother about a year ago.

When I saw Lucius kill my mother, I suddenly felt very, very alone, so having Charles, Matthew, Ryan, and Oliver around makes me feel a little better. Well, I suppose I should stop writing now and get some sleep. Charles brewed up a batch of Dreamless Sleep potion yesterday when he got home from work and gave me a few vials of it so that I can sleep without any nightmares. I begged him for a Memory Charm, but he refused, saying that a Memory Charm would only be hiding from the truth and that wouldn't be a good thing in the long run. I realize that he is right, but it's going to be very hard dealing with the memory of watching my mother's final moments. I don't think I'll ever be able to get that look on her face out of my mind.

* * *

The next morning, Charles had the day off from work and decided to stay home and keep Draco company while Matt and Oliver took Ryan shopping on Diagon Alley. Draco was understandably not in the mood to go shopping, considering the very recent death of his mother. So, Charles wrote a note to the goblins at Gringott's telling them that he was now Draco's legal guardian and to allow Matt to collect some money from Draco's vault. So with the note, Draco's supply list and his vault key in hand, Matthew and Oliver flooed over to Diagon Alley with Ryan. Matthew and Oliver both have apparition licenses, but the wards surrounding Cromwell Hall only allow for Charles to apparate through them, so the floo was quicker in the long run than walking out to the edge of the wards, especially since Ryan can't apparate yet.

Stopping at Gringott's first, the goblins didn't give Matthew any trouble about accessing Draco's vault. Matthew, Ryan, and Oliver were all rather taken aback by the huge amount of galleons in Draco's private vault. The Cromwell and Wood families were by no means poor, but the sheer quantity of galleons in Draco's vault alone was certainly impressive. Matthew was pretty sure that even if he combined what was in his vault with Ryan's vault and Oliver's vault, Draco would still have more. Looking at the shopping list that Draco had supplied, Matthew did take a lot more galleons then one would normally think would be necessary for back to school shopping, but he could see from what Draco all had on his list that the larger amount would definitely be needed.

Leaving Gringott's, Matthew said, "Hey, Ry? I see some friends from school I'd like to say hello to. You think you'll be okay on your own while Oliver and I go over and talk to them?"

"I'm not a baby anymore, Matt," Ryan said with an amused grin as he remembered how protective of him Matt had always been before Lucinda had taken him to Asheville. "You two go on, I'll be fine. I'll just go to Madame Malkin's and get fitted for my robes and place Draco's order. If I'm not there when you guys finish up with your friends, I'll probably be next door taking care of Draco's and my book lists."

"Okay, then, see you in awhile, Ry," Oliver said with a smile as he walked off with Matt, the two of them holding hands.

Ryan couldn't help but smile at the two of them as he thought, 'Well, I guess now that Uncle Charles knows, they don't really care who knows they're together. It's about time.' Ryan just watched them for another minute, before heading into Madame Malkin's shop.

Entering the shop, Ryan saw Madame Malkin for the first time in almost six years. The shop was empty at the moment, so Madame Malkin quickly came over when she heard someone coming in. As she looked Ryan over, she cocked her head to one side and said, "Is it? No, it can't be, little Ryan Cromwell?"

"Not so little anymore, ma'am," Ryan said with a smile.

"My, my you certainly have grown into a fine young man since I last saw you," Malkin said with a smile. "I only wish it was more pleasant circumstances that brought you back. I was so upset when I heard about your grandmother's passing. Please accept my most heartfelt condolences, she was a great woman and I'll miss her dearly."

"Thank you, Madame Malkin."

"So, I take it you're here for your Hogwarts robes?" Malkin asked. "I'm assuming the standard robe with the Hogwarts seal, instead of a house seal?"

"No, I've already been sorted into Ravenclaw," Ryan said. "Professor Dumbledore called me to his office for a private sorting ceremony because he thought I'd feel too out of place being sorted with the first years."

"Ah, congratulations," Malkin said with a smile. "I was in Hufflepuff myself, but Ravenclaw is a fine house. If you'll just step up on the stool here I'll get started on your measurements."

Ryan did as he was told and then quickly pulled out Draco's clothing list, "Oh before I forget. My cousin Draco Malfoy is staying with us now. He didn't feel up to coming with today, but here's his list. Said you had his measurements."

Madame Malkin nodded and took the list from Ryan and said, "Yes, I do. His measurements will have changed within the last few months since his last visit, but a simple Auto-Resizing Charm will handle that. Stand up straight please."

Waving her wand at Ryan and muttering an incantation, a tape measure appeared from thin air and started to take Ryan's measurements as Madame Malkin began to fill Draco's list. The door soon opened and another customer walked into the shop. From the angle he was standing at, Ryan couldn't see who it was, but he soon found out when he heard someone say, "Hey Ry."

"Hi Nick," Ryan said as he recognized the voice of Nicolas Delaney.

"I take it you know each other?" Malkin asked as she looked up from Draco's list.

"Yes, we met the other day in Professor Dumbledore's office," Nicolas said. "I'm transferring to Hogwarts, so he called me over to be sorted. My name's Nicolas Delaney."

"A pleasure, I'm Madame Malkin. If you'll please just step up on that stool next to Young Mr. Cromwell, I'll take your measurements. What house were you put in? I can see to it that your house emblem is placed on your new robes."

"Slytherin, ma'am," Nicolas said as he stepped up onto a vacant stool. Madame Malkin just nodded and then waved her wand at Nicolas, as another tape measure appeared and began to take his measurements.

After all the measurements were taken, Nicolas said, "In addition to the school robes, I'll pretty much need a whole new wardrobe. I'm sure a good portion of the clothes I have won't be all that appropriate. Hogwarts is in a very different climate then what I'm used to at Beauxbatons."

Madame Malkin nodded and then said, "Well, why don't you browse the racks and let me know if there's anything you like. I can easily change the colors of something if you like."

Nodding, Nicolas began to browse as Madame Malkin began to get to work on Ryan, Nicolas, and Draco's school robes. For lack of anything better to do while waiting, Ryan started browsing as well since he did take out a few extra galleons in case he saw something he wanted.

* * *

Meanwhile back at Cromwell Hall, Charles was sitting at his desk in the library, as Draco laid on one of the sofas, reading a book. The sudden pop breaking the silence, caused a startled Charles to jump.

"Master Charles, sir," Barin said. "You have company."

"Please show them in, Barin," Charles said as he relaxed.

"Yes, sir," Barin answered as he disappeared, only to return moments later through the door, accompanied by a tall, black haired man in flowing black robes.

"Ah, Severus, I was wondering when I would be seeing you," Charles said as he stood from his desk.

"I've come for Draco," Severus said as he walked into the room.

"Now, Severus, you know I can't let you take him," Charles said as Draco silently watched the exchange.

"I am his godfather," Severus said.

"I am not disputing that fact, Severus," Charles said. "However, the Ministry has granted me custody of Draco until he reaches his age of majority."

"You?" Severus asked. "I'm his godfather, you're just his, what are you again?"

"First cousin, once removed," Charles replied. "I know the Ministry should have named you to be his guardian, Severus, but I think we both know why they didn't."

Severus just sighed and then nodded, as he placed a hand on his arm, "The Dark Mark."

"Yes," Charles said. "I know that you're on our side, but as I'm sure you know, it's not something we've told the Ministry about."

"Yes, in case the Dark Lord has spies in the Ministry," Severus said.

"Exactly. Tonks, Kingsley and I make sure the other Aurors don't come after you, but as far as the Ministry is concerned you are still a Death Eater and they don't know that you're working as a spy."

"You are?" Draco asked.

"Yes, Draco, I am," Severus said. "Charles and I are both members of a group that Professor Dumbledore organized to fight against the Dark Lord. I go to all of the Death Eater meetings and then report back to Professor Dumbledore on what the Dark Lord is planning. I trust you can keep my secret?"

"Of course, Sev," Draco said, using the nickname that Severus has grudgingly allowed Draco to call him for the last several years. "I wouldn't do anything to get you in trouble."

"Severus, if it would make you feel better," Charles said, "you're welcome to stay here until school starts and then you can be with Draco. I'll even let you have access to my private potions lab, as long as you don't mind living with three Ravenclaws and a Gryffindor."

"Gryffindor?" Severus asked with a sneer.

"Yes, my son Matthew's boyfriend, Oliver Wood," Charles said. "Now that they've finally deigned to tell me about their relationship after being together for seven years and getting engaged, Oliver has moved in."

"Ah, well, I guess I can deal with Wood. He was a fairly good student for a Gryffindor, though much too wrapped up with Quidditch if you ask me. Nonetheless, I do want to be here for Draco, so thank you, Charles."

"My pleasure, Severus. Barin, please prepare a room as near to Draco's as possible."

"Yes, Master Charles," Barin said as he disappeared.

* * *

Exiting Madame Malkin's together, Ryan and Nicolas are extremely happy about the existence of shrinking charms, otherwise they would both have their hands quite full with their recent purchases. Ryan and Nicolas both bought the requisite school robes, new dress robes, and new cloaks more suited to the colder winter season of Northern Scotland. Nicolas found a few items to augment his wardrobe, but ultimately decided that a trip to Muggle London before school started would be in order. Ryan and Nicolas talked while they shopped and found out more about each other. For example, they found out that they both liked blue and green, both liked reading and Ryan also found out that Nicolas would be reaching his age of majority soon.

"That's cool that you'll be seventeen, soon," Ryan said. "I can't wait until I'm seventeen."

"Yeah, I know, I'm pretty excited," Nicolas said.

"How was it to start school late?"

"I don't think it was that different," Nicolas said. "I certainly wasn't the only one at Beauxbatons who started a year late because of my later birthday."

"When is your birthday anyway?" Ryan asked. "Mine is April Twenty-First."

"September Tenth," Nicolas replied.

"So you ended up starting a year late because your birthday was only nine days after the cutoff?"

"Yeah, that's pretty much it," Nicolas said. "Oh well, it was kinda fun in a way having an extra year off before starting school, but I must admit that it was also kind of lonely because most of my friends were able to start on time."  
Ryan and Nicolas continued walking, although the crowds in Diagon Alley had grown quite a bit while they were in Madame Malkin's so even with Flourish and Blotts being next door, it was talking awhile to get there. As they were nearing the entrance to the bookstore, someone bumped into Ryan and threw him off balance, but Nicolas managed to catch and steady him.

"I'm so sorry," a teenage girl said. "These crowds are making it almost impossible to see where you're going."

"That's okay," Ryan said, "no harm done."

"I'm Hermione Granger, by the way," the girl said as she held out her hand.

"Ryan Cromwell," Ryan said as he shook Hermione's hand, "and this is Nicolas Delaney."

"I don't think I've ever seen either of you around," Hermione said.

"Well, I've lived in France until last month," Nicolas said, "and Ryan has been in the States for the last six years."

"So will you be going to Hogwarts now?"

"Yes," Ryan said. "So, we're just taking care of getting our school supplies."

"Who're you talking to Hermione?" a raven-haired boy said as he walked up, along with two red-heads.

"This is Ryan Cromwell and Nicolas Delaney," Hermione said. "I almost ran Ryan down and we got to talking. They're transferring to Hogwarts for their... which year are you guys in?"

"Sixth," Ryan and Nicolas said in unison.

"A pleasure to meet you," one of the red heads said. "I'm Bill Weasley. The other red-head is my brother Ron and then Harry Potter."

"So, are you going to be sorted with the first years?" Ron asked.

"No, Professor Dumbledore had us come to his office to be sorted," Ryan said. "Thought we'd feel too out of place among the first years. I'm in Ravenclaw."

"That's cool," Harry said. "What about you Nicolas?"

"Slytherin," Nicolas said and couldn't help but notice the sudden look of indifference on Ron's face. Hermione couldn't help but notice it either, as she replied, "You'll have to forgive Ron, but he thinks all Slytherins are inherently evil, especially since You-Know-Who was a Slytherin."

"Don't forget that insufferable git Malfoy," Ron said.

"Ron, would it kill you to show a little compassion?" Bill asked. "The boy did just lose his mother."

"He's still an insufferable git and an evil Slytherin bastard."

"Personally, I don't find Draco to be all that bad," Ryan said. "Though I haven't known him very long."

"You've already met Malfoy?" Harry asked.

"Yes, he's my second cousin," Ryan said. "Just met him yesterday though, after my Uncle Charles brought him home, after what happened at his family's house."

"I knew the name Cromwell sounded familiar," Hermione said. "I saw it in the Daily Prophet yesterday. Malfoy has made it his life's work over the last few years to annoy and insult us, but I'm willing to cut him some slack."

"Hermione are you bloody mad?"

"No, Ron, I'm not mad," Hermione said. "It's just that I don't even want to begin to imagine how hard it must have been for Malfoy to see his own father kill his mother. The article also said that Lucius had been using the Cruciatus on him, so I think he deserves some compassion."

Ron opened his mouth to say something, but Harry stopped him and said, "Ron, I know you don't agree, so just please agree to disagree. I'm not in the mood to watch my two best friends fighting right now."

"Agreed," Bill said, giving his younger brother a look that said 'Don't you even think about arguing with me.'

"Well, we were just about to get our books," Harry said. "Would you care to join us, Ryan, Nicolas?"

"Sure," Ryan said. "Nicolas and I were just on our way there too. Have to buy Draco's books too."

"He didn't come today?" Hermione asked.

"No, he didn't feel up to it," Ryan said. "So, he just gave us his shopping list and his vault key."

"The goblins actually let you into Draco's vault?" Bill asked.

"Well, my Uncle Charles is Draco's guardian now," Ryan said. "So he wrote them a note. I'm here with my cousin Matt and his boyfriend, but they went off to say hello to some old friends from school."

Bill, Harry, Ron, and Hermione just nodded before accompanying Ryan and Nicolas into Flourish and Blotts.

* * *

To be continued...


	5. Chapter 5

Harry Potter and the Return of the Heirs  
By J.C. Vascardi

* * *  
Chapter Five  
* * *

Harry's Journal - August 30, 1996

I'm not sure where exactly the time is going, because it just seems to be going by so fast right now. Of course, I'm certainly not complaining, because I'll be very happy to get out of Grimmauld Place and back to Hogwarts. Even though it isn't nearly as fancy, I've always felt much more at home in the common room or in the boy's dormitory of Gryffindor tower then I think I ever will in the opulence of Grimmauld Place.

When I first saw it this summer, I was rather shocked because it was quite different from what I remembered it, but then again, I suppose it would have been stupid to think that Mrs. Weasley was just going to sit on her hands and not clean the place. I guess I just didn't really expect her to restore the place to its former old money glory. I asked Bill about it and he said that his mom was sort of hoping that if the mansion was restored to its former glory that maybe it would placate Mrs. Black, but the old hag still screams obscenities whenever the curtains over her portrait are disturbed. Bill said his mom knew when she started that it was a long shot, but she figured it was worth a shot anyway.

I haven't seen Remus in the last few days, so I hope he's feeling better now. He's given me permission to call him Remus. It'll take a little getting used to I think, but with time, I'm sure it'll become second nature. This hasn't been an easy summer for him though, because he had to deal with the full moon two nights ago on the 28th of August, but he also had to deal with two full moons in July, on the 1st and 30th. Snape does brew the Wolfsbane Potion for him, but that doesn't prevent the transformation, it just makes him less violent.

One bright spot about the last few days has been Ryan and Nicolas visiting. It turns out that Ryan's uncle Charles is a member of the Order and Dumbledore recently inducted Nicolas' grandmother, since she's taking Hagrid's old job as Hogwarts gamekeeper and Magical Creatures professor. Two other new members are Ryan's cousin, Matt and his boyfriend, whom I must admit I was rather shocked to find out, was my old Quidditch Captain Oliver Wood. I certainly never had Oliver pegged as being gay, but then again I shouldn't be all that surprised, because I certainly had never suspected that Bill was gay until he told me. Even after he told me a part of me thought that maybe he was joking.

Of course, I now know from experience that Bill most certainly was not joking. To use an old Muggle saying, it certainly doesn't take a rocket scientist for a guy to figure out that another guy isn't joking about being gay when he's having sex with them. I know that Hermione has occasionally thought me to be a little slow on the uptake, but I'm not that slow. Even Ron, who is arguably even slower on the uptake wouldn't be that slow.

In terms of the sex, I don't really have anything else to compare it to, since Bill was my first, but I must admit, he does make my body feel very good. We both agree though that our relationship is more friendly then romantic. True, we do kiss and have sex, but there's nothing really romantic about it. Bill has certainly never brought me flowers or candy or any of the other romantic gestures that loving couples do, but then again neither have I and the simple reason for that is because Bill and I are not a couple.

Another thing that couples usually do is tell their loved ones about their relationship. That is definitely not something that Bill and I have done because if Mrs. Weasley ever found out that I was having sex with Bill, she'd probably want to kill him for taking advantage of me or something. I may not be in love with him, but I really do like him as a friend and the last thing I want is to have someone else's death on my head.

I realize I've gotten slightly off track here, but I've found this journal to be very therapeutic. So, even if I sit down intending to write about one subject, I've found that it's best to just lose myself in writing and write whatever comes to mind. In terms of Ryan and Nicolas visiting, I've gotten to know them both a bit better over the last few days since we met on Diagon Alley. They're both really nice guys and even Ron seems to like them and isn't holding the fact that Nicolas was sorted into Slytherin against him. Of course, considering that Nicolas loves Quidditch and chess about as much as Ron does, it was really only a matter of time before they struck up a friendship, regardless of his house.

* * *

Twenty-year-old Matthew Cromwell stood in the middle of his bedroom at Cromwell Hall, naked from the waist up as the talented hands of his intended roamed all over his back and their equally talented lips kissed and sucked at the nape of Matt's neck. Even after seven long and very happy years together, Matt had been very nervous when he had finally asked the big question. He had gone to Diagon Alley, bought the ring, and then carried it around with him for months before he finally worked up enough courage to ask the question. Looking back on it, Matt would be the first to admit that his nervousness was stupid because no sooner had he opened the box, his boyfriend said yes, before Matt even got the chance to say a word.

"Oh Olli," Matt moaned as his fiance, twenty-year-old Oliver Wood, continued to plant kiss after succulent kiss on the nape of his neck. Oliver is a very talented Quidditch player, but he does possess other talents, several of which Matt is the only one to have ever had the pleasure of experiencing. Matt and Oliver met on a stormy Saturday afternoon in the library during their fourth year. They quickly struck up a friendship and it wasn't long after that they had begun dating. The rest is, as they say, history.

As Oliver continued to kiss his neck, Matt slowly guided him over to the bed and then without warning, pushed Oliver down onto the bed. Oliver just looked up at Matt, with a grin on his face that was a mix of mischievousness and lust. Performing a quick strip show for Oliver, Matt shed his clothes and then looked down at his lover, shook his head and said, "You know, you are entirely too overdressed."

"Well, we'll just have to fix that, now won't we?" Oliver asked with a grin, as Matt simply nodded and began to unbutton Oliver's red silk shirt. Once Matt had divested Oliver of his shirt, he threw it onto the pile with his own clothes, before turning his attention to unbuckling the belt and undoing the button and zipper of Oliver's tight, black jeans. Oliver lifted himself up from the bed as Matt pulled the jeans off of his legs, leaving Oliver clad only in a white t-shirt, a pair of white boxers, and a pair of white socks.

Kneeling between Oliver's legs, Matt smiled at him for a moment, before he leaned down and began to kiss Oliver's ever-hardening member through the material that was covering it. As Matt did this, Oliver pointed his wand at the bedroom doors and mumbled a locking charm, followed by a silencing charm. He certainly didn't want to give Ryan anymore ammunition to embarrass them with, not to mention the fact that he did not relish the thought of Professor Snape overhearing them.

Matt took a moment to smile up at Oliver as he set his wand on the nightstand and mouthed the words, "I love you." Matt just grinned at Oliver, before returning to the task at hand. Grabbing the waistband of Oliver's boxers in his teeth, Matt began to slowly pull them down. Freed from the confining material, Oliver's manhood sprang up and hit his abdomen. The underwear, followed shortly there after by Oliver's t-shirt, soon joined the growing pile of discarded clothes on the floor near the bed.

Lying down on top of his fiance, Matt began to kiss him passionately on the lips as he ground his hips into Oliver's. Both young men let out a muffled moan as their hardened members came into contact with one another. As they continued to kiss, Matt placed a hand behind Oliver's back, gently rubbing it, as Oliver placed one hand on Matt's back and ran the other through his silky black hair. 

The kiss lasted for several minutes, before Matt broke away and began to kiss his way down Oliver's sleek and toned body. Starting at the tip of his right shoulder blade, Matt kissed his way across to the left, before moving down a bit and planting a kiss on Oliver's left nipple, taking a moment to swirl his tongue around on it.

Kissing his way back across Oliver's chest, Matt placed a second kiss on the right nipple, again swirling his tongue around on it, as Oliver let out a moan to indicate that he was thoroughly enjoying himself. After a few more minutes of going back and forth, Matt continued to kiss his way down, pausing to kiss and lick the muscles of Oliver's six-pack abs. Oliver continued to moan as Matt moved further down, kissing and licking his way down Oliver's right thigh, deciding to ignore his raging cock for the moment.

Continuing to kiss and lick his way down Oliver's right leg, Matt soon reached Oliver's sock-covered feet. Sitting up, Matt took the right foot in his hand and began to massage it, before planting a kiss on each cotton-covered toe, causing Oliver to giggle a bit. Being careful not to bite Oliver's toes, Matt then took the sock in his teeth and pulled it off of Oliver's foot. Resting Oliver's right foot back on the bed, Matt picked up the left and repeated his actions of massaging it and kissing the covered toes, before once again pulling the sock of with his teeth. Placing the foot back on the bed, Matt then leaned down and began to kiss his way back up Oliver's left leg all the way back to his lips.

The kiss lasted for several minutes, as Matt and Oliver's tongues danced around in each other's mouths, eagerly exploring and competing in a mini-battle of supremacy. As the kiss ended, Matt looked deeply into his lover's eyes, and could tell from the look of lust and longing in them that Oliver wanted things to continue past the foreplay they'd been engaging in until now. More then happy to oblige, Matt placed a quick kiss on the tip of Oliver's nose, before once again kissing his way back down Oliver's body. Matt paused and gently bit each of Oliver's nipples, eliciting a moan of pleasure from him.

Matt continued to kiss and lick his way downwards, until finally he reached Oliver's throbbing cock. Pausing for a brief moment to smile up at his lover, Matt then leaned down and placed a kiss on the head, causing Oliver to moan. Encouraged by Oliver's obvious pleasure, Matt slowly began to run his tongue up and down Oliver's shaft. After a few more minutes of teasing Oliver with his tongue, Matt decided to put him out of his misery, so to speak, and took Oliver's length into his mouth. Oliver let out another loud moan and buried his hands in Matt's hair, encouraging him to continue going down on him.

As Matt continued his up and down motions and Oliver continued his moaning, Matt found himself thanking all of the Gods for the existence of the silencing charm that Oliver had put up earlier. The thought of Ryan overhearing them again was bad enough, but the thought of his father, Draco, or Professor Snape overhearing them was even worse. Matt was rather peeved when he found out that his father had invited Professor Snape to stay at the house. He knew it was because he was Draco's godfather and he wanted to be close to him during his period of mourning, but it was nonetheless very unpleasant news to find out that his least favorite teacher was going to be living in the house. Potions had always been one of Matt's father's best subjects and seeing Professor Snape only reminded Matt of the fact that he was not very good in it, which he knew was a disappointment to his father.

"Oh, Matt..." Oliver moaned, as Matt speeded up his motions, which soon sent Oliver crashing over the edge, shooting load after load into Matt's mouth. Matt greedily drank all of it, before removing his mouth from Oliver's member and moving up to kiss his lover. The kiss lasted for several minutes, as Oliver darted his tongue all over Matt's mouth, tasting his own cum in the process. The kiss continued for several minutes, before Oliver broke the kiss and returned the favor that Matt had just given him. Nearly exhausted from the activity, Matt reached over to the nightstand, grabbed his wand, mumbled, "Nox," and then returned it to the nightstand as the all lights went off.

Cuddling up together under the covers, Matt whispered softly, "I love you, Olli."

"I love you to, Matt," Oliver whispered, as the two of them fell asleep.

* * *

September the First dawned and Harry soon found himself on the Hogwarts Express, much to his delight. It was such a relief to be out of Grimmauld Place that he couldn't even put it into words. He knew that the Wizarding World was at war with Voldemort and that the times ahead were not going to be easy, especially for him because of Trelawny's damn prophecy, but for the moment, he was determined to put it all out of his mind and simply enjoy the trip back to Hogwarts, which he had long time ago begun thinking of as his true home. Harry found himself an empty compartment in the last car of the train and sat down.

Ron and Hermione told him that they would join him as soon as the normal Prefect's meeting was over. Of course, as much as Harry enjoyed spending time with Ron and Hermione, he hoped that a few other people might join them in the compartment, because more and more Harry was beginning to feel like a third wheel around Ron and Hermione. Harry was happy that they had finally gotten together, but watching them together made it all the more obvious how much his heart longed for that same kind of affection and love that they shared. Harry had tried to feel it with Bill, but it just never worked. He did love Bill, as he never would have been able to have sex with him if he didn't, but Harry knew that the love was not the kind that a lifetime commitment should be based on. He had discussed this at length with Bill and he totally agreed.

'The meeting can't possibly be over yet,' Harry thought as the sound of the compartment door opening interrupted his thoughts, 'We haven't even left the station yet.'

Looking up, Harry smiled. It wasn't Ron or Hermione, but his new friends, Ryan Cromwell and Nicolas Delaney, who were standing in the doorway.

"Mind if we join you, Harry?" Ryan asked.

"Have a seat," Harry replied with a smile as he motioned for the two young men to come in.

Ryan and Nicolas just smiled as they stepped into the compartment and Nicolas closed the door, before sitting down.

"So, what is Hogwarts like?" Nicolas asked.

"Oh it's great," Harry said right away. "I think of it as my home away from home."

"I know I'm certainly looking forward to it," Ryan said. "From everything Matt and Oliver have told me, I'm sure that I'm going to enjoy it."

"You know, I still can't believe it," Harry said. "I knew Oliver for three years. I swear the thought that he was gay never crossed my mind. Of course, I was only thirteen when he graduated from school. It wasn't until I was fifteen that I fully realized and accepted that I was gay, so I guess I wasn't very good at spotting it in others."

"Trust me, Harry," Ryan said, "you're not alone in that. I may only have been ten when I moved to Asheville and I admit I haven't seen much of Matt while I was in the States, but we had always been very close. We owled each other almost every day and I never picked up the slightest clue that he was gay, let alone in a serious relationship that had started before I had even moved away."

"So you're gay, Harry?" Nicolas asked, as the train began to pull out of the station.

"Yeah, I am," Harry said. "I started to suspect it when I was about fourteen, but I never really paid any attention to it. I didn't want to be, so I convinced myself that I liked this one girl at school, Cho Chang. We kissed once and it was a total disaster. After that I started to realize it more and then... well, I'm not sure I should say."

"Say what?" Ryan asked.

"Well, I was about to tell you something that not even Ron and Hermione know. They've been my best friends since first year and I haven't even told them yet," as Harry thought, 'Of course, I was about to tell Ryan and Nicolas about Bill. Ron and Hermione don't even know I'm gay yet, let alone anything about Bill. Speaking of things they don't know about yet, I also haven't told them about the prophecy either. I think I'll hold off on telling them about that for now.'

"Well, then you should probably tell them first," Nicolas said, as Ryan nodded.

"Maybe when they get back from the Prefect's meeting," Harry said, "I'll tell all of you at once."

Ryan and Nicolas simply nodded to Harry again before the three of them started talking about various topics. Harry and Nicolas learned more about Ryan's time in Asheville, his late grandmother Lucinda, and the fact that he too was gay. Ryan and Harry learned more about Nicolas' time at Beauxbatons, his grandmother Angelique, and the fact that he was bisexual. Harry also filled them in on some of his various adventures over the years, such as the ordeal with Voldemort and Professor Quirrell, the Chamber of Secrets and the basilisk, and the rebirth of Voldemort and the Priori Incantatem effect.

Ron and Hermione soon entered the compartment and after sitting down, Harry cleared his throat and said, "Ron, Hermione, there's something I've been meaning to tell you. Ryan and Nicolas already know part of it, but I figured I should tell you two what I told them, before elaborating any further."

"What is it, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, mate, you can tell us anything," Ron said.

"Okay, well," Harry said and cleared his throat, "I'm gay."

"Well, mate," Ron said after a moment, "if being with blokes makes you happy then that's fine."

"Hermione?" Harry asked his voice tinged with fear at her quietness.

"Hmm?" Hermione said as she was brought out of her thoughts, "Oh, I'm sorry, Harry. I'm fine with it. You're one of my very best friends and all I want is for you to be happy. I was just wondering how you'd arrived at that conclusion, since you said you wanted to tell us before elaborating further. I assume there's more to it. Do you have a boyfriend or something?"

"Well, no, I don't have a boyfriend," Harry said. "At least not in the sense that Ron is your boyfriend, Hermione."

"What do you mean?" Ron asked.

"Well, I do have a friend," Harry said, "that I've, well that I've, um, slept with on numerous occasions. We've talked about it though and we both agree that we're better off as very good friends then we would be as a couple."

"Do we know this person?" Hermione asked, curiosity written all over her face.

"Oh you definitely know him," Harry said. "Ron especially."

"Huh?" Ron asked the look on his face one of total confusion.

"Well, um, you see," Harry said, "Ron, you've known the person all of your life."

"I have?" Ron asked.

"I'm going to go out on a limb here," Hermione said, "and venture a guess that you mean that you've slept with one of Ron's brothers, am I right Harry?"

A look of sudden comprehension crossed Ron's face as he looked to his best friend for confirmation.

"Yes, Hermione, you're right."

"Well, it can't be Fred or George," Ron said. "They've been dating the Patil twins since the beginning of summer. Percy, well, I don't know if he's still with Penelope or not, but I can't imagine Percy would really be your type, mate."

"Your right, Ron," Harry said. "It isn't Fred, George or Percy."

"Well, that just leaves Bill or Charlie," Hermione said.

"Well, it can't be Bill," Ron said. "He seemed so taken with Fleur. Charlie, well, I don't know. I thought he'd mentioned a boyfriend in one of his letters, but he said it was one of his co-workers in Romania."

"Well, Harry said it was one of your brothers Ron," Hermione said, "and he clearly said it wasn't Fred, George, or Percy, so it has to be either Bill or Charlie."

"It isn't Charlie either," Harry finally spoke up.

"You mean that you and Bill?" Ron asked. "But what about Fleur? Why are you even still alive, Harry?"

"Gee thanks, Ron," Harry said.

"Don't get me wrong, mate," Ron said. "I'm glad that you're still alive, but Fleur is part Veela. I would have thought that she would have killed you by now for sleeping with her mate."

"Ron is right, Harry," Hermione said. "Veelas, even part Veelas, are extremely protective of their mates. If you've been sleeping with Bill then Fleur should have killed you by now. Unless..."

"Unless what?" Ron asked.

"Unless Bill isn't Fleur's mate," Ryan said.

"Exactly," Hermione said with a smile to Ryan.

"Are we perhaps talking about Fleur Delacour?" Nicolas asked. "Has a little sister named Gabrielle?"

"Yes, that's her," Hermione said. "Do you know her?"

"Yes, I do," Nicolas said. "In fact Gabrielle had a crush on me at school last year and was trying to get me to date her."

"How did you resist her charms?" Ron asked.

"Isn't she a little young for you?" Harry asked before Nicolas could say anything. "I met her during the Triwizard Tournament and thought she couldn't be much older than eight."

"Well, she's always appeared a bit young for her age," Nicolas said. "Gabrielle is starting her fifth year this year. As for how I could resist her charms, she doesn't have her powers yet. It would seem that Veelas don't come into their powers until sometime after their sixteenth birthday. Anyway, as for Fleur, I happen to know that this Bill can't be her mate."

"How do you know?"

"Well, Ron," Nicolas said, "Gabrielle and I are still friends, despite not working out as a couple. We still owl each other and about two months ago she said that Fleur had found her mate and was getting engaged. Said it was one of our old classmates named Phillipe Fortier. He was a couple of years ahead of Fleur in school, so she didn't come into her powers until after he graduated, so she didn't realize that he was her mate right away. Come to think of it, Gabrielle did mention a William from Britain in her letters that Fleur had thought was her mate, but after all of the tests were done, it was determined that he wasn't."

"That's right," Harry said. "Bill told me all about that. Fleur was convinced that he was her mate, so she was using her powers on him all the time, because he wasn't being as receptive as she would have liked. She finally gave up the idea that he was her mate after all of the tests were done because they determined that he was most definitely not her mate; a fact which he would have made perfectly clear if he had been in his right mind at the time, since he is very much so gay. You can trust me when I say that considering how many times we've, um, had sex."

"So you and Bill?" Ron asked after several moments.

"Yeah, Ron, me and Bill," Harry said.

Hermione suddenly got a strange look on her face and asked, "How was he?"

After the shock of Hermione asking such a thing wore off, Harry replied, "Suffice it to say that whoever does finally capture his heart will be a very lucky man."

After that the conversation soon turned away from Harry's love life as the five friends started talking about a myriad of subjects ranging from school and the upcoming year at Hogwarts, to when the first Hogsmeade weekend would be, and even a little bit about the war with Voldemort; although the latter topic was avoided as much as possible. Arriving at the station in Hogsmeade, everyone disembarked from the train and everything was as Harry had always remembered it, with one distinct difference. Instead of Hagrid holding up a lantern and yelling "Firs' Years!" a tall witch who appeared to be in her late sixties or early seventies, wearing an emerald green cloak over a black dress was the one holding the lantern and calling out for the first years.

Nicolas led them over to the woman and said, "Hello grandmother."

"Nicolas, my darling," Professor Angelique Byrne said. "Good to see you and your friends."

"Well, I'll see you later, grandmother," Nicolas said. "I suppose we should be getting to the carriages and up to the school."

"Yes, you should," Professor Byrne said, "and I have to get the first years into the boats. I'll see you later though. I love you, Nicolas."

"Love you too, grandmother," Nicolas said as he gave her a quick hug, before following Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ryan towards the carriages.

* * *

Later that evening, Harry sat with his fellow Gryffindors in the Great Hall, waiting for the Sorting to begin. Several of his classmates had already noticed that there were several empty seats at the head table and were wondering what was going on. All of their normal teachers were present, but there were nonetheless several empty chairs on either side of Professor Dumbledore. Harry knew that one of them was of course Professor McGonagall's seat and he assumed that one was also for Nicolas' grandmother, Professor Byrne. Harry also figured that one of the empty seats would probably be for their new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher, whoever that may be, but he didn't know why they wouldn't be sitting at the head table already. Of course, the few times he'd seen Dumbledore over the summer, he'd sort of hinted that there would be many surprises this year, so perhaps the empty seats were part of that and Dumbledore wanted to keep the people who would be filling those seats a surprise for the moment.

Harry was brought out of his thoughts when the massive doors of the Great Hall opened and Professor McGonagall began to walk down the center of the room, with two lines of young witches and wizards following her. Some of them looked scared, while others looked up at the enchanted ceiling in total awe, while still others looked rather unimpressed by everything around them. Arriving at the front of the Hall, McGonagall had the students line up in front of the Head Table and Harry then saw the Sorting Hat start moving on its stool as it prepared to sing.

Hello once again my dear students,   
Some of you are returning and some are new,  
Listen closely to my song  
And I will tell you a story true.

Of the four greatest witches and wizards,  
Who shared the same dream and desire  
To create the best school in which to train,  
And pass on to the young skills they didn't have prior.

Thus the Hogwarts School came to be.  
Each of the Founders had traits that they admired,   
so, they each formed their own House,   
for which students who had them could be acquired.

Brave Godric Gryffindor was known for his bravery,   
so he took those truly brave at heart.  
Wise Rowena Ravenclaw was known for her intelligence,   
and she took those who were especially smart.

Fair Helga Hufflepuff was known for her loyalty,   
so she took those who were loyal to their friends.  
Sly Salazar Slytherin was known from his ambition,   
and he took those who did anything to achieve their ends.

The school ran well for several years,   
The Founders were good friends, and didn't foresee any change.  
Nobody saw the trouble brewing until it was too late,   
and Salazar Slytherin had already started to estrange.

He thought they should only teach pure-bloods,   
and tried in vain to convince the others of this belief.  
Life in the castle was unpleasant when they didn't agree,   
so, finally Salazar left, much to the other Founders' relief.

Now over a thousand years has passed,   
And the Four Founders are long gone.  
We are at war and it is a very dark time,   
But a new hope is about to dawn.

This new hope shall stand against the evil,   
And it is with a joyous heart that I declare,   
The Founders have returned to Hogwarts  
In the form of the students who are their Heirs.

Which of the Founders' Heirs have returned you ask?  
Well, wonder not for long, as I intend to tell.  
Somewhere in this Hall, listening to my song,   
The Heirs of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw all dwell.

Of course they are not alone in this Hall.  
The last may cause some to be concerned.  
For the evil we now face, was thought to be the last,   
But it wasn't, for the Heir of Slytherin has also returned.

I implore all of you not to worry though,   
for the evil we face is not in this school.  
This new Heir of Slytherin is not like the last,   
for he will help the side of Light to rule.

As I said this time last year, know the perils,   
Read the signs, the warning history shows,   
for our dear Hogwarts is in danger,   
from external deadly foes.

The Heirs must help us unite inside her,   
or we will crumble from within.  
I have told you, I have warned you...  
And now, let the Sorting begin.

When the hat finished its song, the entire hall broke out in whispers and looking up at the head table; Harry noticed that even some of the teachers were whispering among themselves. Even Dumbledore looked a little strange, as if he had no idea beforehand what the hat had intended to reveal. After a few moments, Dumbledore stood up and raised his hands up. Yellow sparks emerged from his hands and a bang emanated throughout the room, causing all the students to turn towards the Headmaster as silence fell over the hall.

"We will discuss what the Sorting Hat has said," Dumbledore said. "However, first let us take care of the Sorting and the feast to follow. I shall share my comments on this turn of events after we've all eaten and I make my customary start of term announcements. Now, Professor McGonagall, please start the Sorting Ceremony." 

Professor McGonagall nodded to Dumbledore and then unrolled the long scroll and called out, "Addison, Jonathan," as a young black haired boy came up and put on the hat. After a few moments the hat shouted, "RAVENCLAW!" as cheers erupted from the Ravenclaw table and the boy went over to join his housemates. Professor McGonagall continued calling out names and the group of new students near the front of the room began to get smaller, as Ravenclaw got six more students, Hufflepuff got five, Slytherin got five, and Gryffindor got seven. As the new students were narrowed down to only four, Harry did a double take as he noticed that only four boys were left and looking at the back of their heads, Harry couldn't help but notice that it appeared as though Hogwarts was about to take it's first group of quadruplets.

Harry was indeed correct on the assumption as McGonagall soon called out the name, "Waters, Kyle," followed by, "Waters, Lane," "Waters, Mark," and "Waters, Noah." They all looked identical to one another, but as if to prove that despite their appearances they were in possession of very different personalities, Kyle was sorted into Gryffindor, Lane into Slytherin, Mark into Hufflepuff, and Noah into Ravenclaw. Harry watched the four of them as they were sorted and thought that they looked a little sad that they'd all been sorted into different houses, but at the same time they all looked proud to be in the houses that they were sorted into. Harry knew that as first year students there probably wouldn't be much they could do to influence the older students, but he couldn't help but think that there was a good chance that they might be able to help their fellow first year housemates overcome the longstanding house rivalries, so that in the years to come, the four houses may start working together, rather than fighting.

As the Sorting Ceremony ended, Professor McGonagall put away the scroll listing the new students and the Sorting Hat, before returning to her seat. Professor Dumbledore stood up and said, "I'm sure all you are hungry, so while there is a time for speeches and announcements, now is not it, so tuck in!" All of the empty serving platters on the tables magically filled with food and the students and teachers begin to fill their plates.

After about half an hour, Dumbledore stood up and called for everyone's attention. Once silence had fallen over the great hall, Dumbledore said, "For those of you who are new to Hogwarts, I say welcome and I hope that you will be a credit to the houses which you have been placed in. For those of you who are returning, I say welcome back. Now, at this time, I usually would make some start of term notices, however, in light of the information revealed before the Sorting, I feel I must address that first.

"I was unaware of what the Hat had intended to reveal. While it is true that I am the Headmaster, I never interfere with the Sorting Hat's song and I do not ask it to tell me what it will sing before it does. I rather enjoy being surprised and hearing it as all of you hear it. The fact that sitting among you now are the heirs of all four of our school's founders is indeed news that I hadn't expected. Over the years, students descended from them have indeed come and gone, but it has been a very long time since all four of them had an heir at the school at the same time. To be perfectly honest, I myself was under the impression that we would never again see each of our founders represented in student form, so I’m just as shocked at this turn of events as I’m sure many of you are."

Dumbledore paused to take a sip from his goblet before continuing, "Some of you who have attended Hogwarts for awhile, specifically those of you have were here to witness the events of the 1992-93 school year, were probably quite shaken up to hear the hat say that the Heir of Slytherin had returned to the school. As the Hat said though, the student it was referring to is not the evil we currently face and I offer you my guarantee that Voldemort has not stepped foot in this castle in over two decades. Since I know many of you fear his name and I've always believed that we should call things by their correct name, I shall give all of you another alternative for a name to use in conjunction with Voldemort, rather than the names born of fear."

Raising his wand, Dumbledore wrote three words in the air.

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE

"That is the name that Voldemort used during his school years," Dumbledore said. "He now calls himself Lord Voldemort because of a very little known fact that I am about to reveal to you. Voldemort's creed has always been that he wants to purge the Wizarding World of all who are not of the purest blood. The biggest problem with that is that he himself is a contradiction to his own creed. Tom Marvolo Riddle is indeed the name of the wizard who is now known as Lord Voldemort and he is indeed descended from Salazar Slytherin. His Slytherin blood, however, comes from his mother, Merope, the daughter of Marvolo Gaunt. His first name and surname is the only thing he inherited from his father's side, because his father, Tom Riddle, was a Muggle. Not wanting to use his Muggle father's name, he crafted himself a new name which is the name that the Wizarding World now fears to speak."

With a wave of his wand, the letters of the name still floating in mid-air rearranged themselves.

I AM LORD VOLDEMORT

A murmur went through the student body as everyone broke out in whispers as they digested this new information. Harry noticed that a few of the Slytherins were shooting glares at Dumbledore and he was sure that if looks could kill, Dumbledore would be a smoldering pile of ashes right now.

Raising his hands again and calling for silence, Dumbledore continued, "I know some of you may be confused or even angered by this information. I have however always believed that the truth is generally preferable to lies, and as your Headmaster I felt that it was time that this particular lie was brought to light. Now in terms of the founder’s heirs, I'm sure that many of you are going to be spending lots of time trying to figure that out and I fully expect that many of you are thinking about going to the library and checking out the genealogical texts which are housed there. I would warn you however not to waste your time, because I know for a fact that the texts stored in our library do not go back far enough to reveal who in this room may or may not be descended from Godric, Helga, Rowena, and Salazar.

"Now, on to the start of term announcements," Dumbledore said, as he once again paused to take a sip from his goblet before continuing. "As always the forest on the grounds of this school is forbidden to all students. Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has asked me to remind you that magic is not allowed in the hallways between classes and that all products sold by Zonko's and Weasley's Wizard Wheezes are on the banned items list. To read the list in it's entirety please see the list posted outside of Mr. Filch's office, although I warn you that it now numbers close to a thousand items and will take quite awhile to read. Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will begin in about two weeks, as soon as we are satisfied that the added protection wards around the pitch are at their strongest.

"Many of you have probably noticed the empty seats at the staff table this evening. There are in fact several staffing related announcements which I have to share with you. First off, Professor Trelawny, our Divination teacher, has decided to take early retirement due to an ailing family member in London who she must care for. Due to this change in our staffing, I have decided to remove Divination from the class offerings at this school, which is something that I have wanted to do for quite awhile. Due to this fact, I have decided to cancel all classes tomorrow, so as to give the students currently enrolled in Divination time to look over the other offerings and pick a new class. There are also some new offerings this year for our sixth and seventh year students, so tomorrow they will be allowed to make any changes to their schedules that they wish.

"Now, many of you who were here last year, probably remember that a second teacher was brought in to teach Divination. That teacher, the centaur known as Firenze, is still on staff here at Hogwarts, but his talents will now be dedicated to teaching a new elective class for sixth and seventh year students: Archery. Now, in other staffing news, filling the position of Defense against the Dark Arts teacher this year is a person who has taught at Hogwarts for many years: formerly our Potions teacher, Professor Snape!"

Murmurs went through the hall as Professor Snape stood up, nodded, and sat back down. Harry was, of course, completely horrified at the idea that his favorite subject would now be taught by his least favorite teacher. He also couldn’t help but wonder who would be filling the Potions job now that Snape had finally been given the position that he’d coveted for years.

As if Dumbledore had read Harry’s mind, he said, “Now, I’m sure many of you are wondering who will be teaching Potions now that Professor Snape is no longer filling that position. Potions will now be taught by a person who is on loan to us from Gringott’s Wizarding Bank, where he works as one of their curse-breakers: Professor Weasley!”

As Dumbledore said this, the door to the small antechamber off the hall where all of the Triwizard champions were sent after their names were drawn from the Goblet of Fire opened and Bill emerged. He waved to the students and then took his place in one of the empty chairs at the head table. This was certainly news to Harry, as Bill had never mentioned anything about being on staff at Hogwarts. Harry knew that Bill had an Outstanding Potions N.E.W.T, but he never expected him to teach the subject. 'Perhaps Dumbledore asked him not to tell anyone so it could be a surprise,' Harry thought. 'I'm surprised he didn't tell me at least. Of course, I suppose now at least the Gryffindors will be treated fairly in Potions class, but unfairly in Defense class.'

"Filling the positions recently vacated by our dear Hagrid, who moved to France following his wedding to the Headmistress of Beauxbatons Academy, I present Professor Byrne, our new Care of Magical Creatures teacher, as well as game and groundskeeper."

Once again, the door to the side chamber opened and Professor Byrne came out and took a seat at the head table.

"Another new offering this year, also an elective for sixth and seventh years only, is a Fencing class, which shall be taught by Professor Lasinius."

The door opened and a man wearing ocean blue robes walked out and as he looked at this new teacher, Harry unknowingly thought the same thing that several other students in the hall were thinking, 'Damn, he's hot.' Professor Lasinius stood about six feet two inches tall with a lean muscular build. Harry couldn't tell what color his eyes were from this distance, but he noted that he had shoulder-length black hair tied back in a tail. Looking at him, Harry thought that he was probably around Bill's age. Professor Lasinius smiled and waved at the students before walking up to the head table and sitting down next to Bill.

"Now, those of you who attended last year may have heard rumors about a group called Dumbledore's Army," Dumbledore said as he gazed over in Harry's direction. "The group did indeed exist and its purpose was to give its members the chance to practice Defense against the Dark Arts, as the teacher filling the position last year did not, regrettably, include any practical instruction in her lessons. I have decided to allow the group to continue, however, I will personally be taking over as teacher for the group, which shall now be called Defense Arts. It will be an extra-curricular activity open to all fifth year and above students wishing extra Defense training in addition to what Professor Snape will be offering in his classes."

Harry was quite relieved to be honest when Dumbledore said that he'd be taking over the group. While he had learned to deal with the position of teacher for the group, he had always felt that he really wasn't adequately qualified to be teaching his fellow classmates. The fact that Dumbledore, who was the most powerful wizard in the world, would be taking over as teacher was a relief to Harry and he looked forward to the group's meetings because he was sure that Dumbledore would probably teach them some very potent defensive spells which would come in handy in the war.

A smile came to Harry’s face as he thought, ‘Maybe with lots of extra practice and instruction from Dumbledore I can even do well enough in Snape’s class that he can’t find any fault with my performance. Note to self: Put Snape in his place by being one of the best students in class.’

"Another new offering this year, is a class which shall be taught by our own Madame Hooch, who our second year and above students know as our Flying Instructor and Quidditch Referee. Madame Hooch will be teaching an Unarmed Self Defense class, which is also an extra-curricular activity open to fifth year and above students. The class will strive to teach students how to defend themselves should they ever find themselves to be in the position of being separated from their wands. No witch or wizard likes to think of that possibility, but Madame Hooch and I agree that it is high time that we offered a class to teach you how to defend yourselves if that situation does occur. Those of you with knowledge of Muggle defense techniques may recognize parts of the classes' curriculum as being very similar to Muggle martial arts.

“Also, in addition to her normal Medical Magic class for those of you who desire to become Healers after graduation, Madame Pomfrey has agreed to teach a class on the Basics of Battlefield Medicine. It will be a pared down, less demanding version of the normal Medical Magic class, which will not teach you enough to become a Healer, but it will give you enough basic knowledge to deal with some minor to moderate injuries by yourselves. The class will be extra-curricular, open to all sixth year and above students who got at least an Exceeds Expectations on their Charms, Potions, and Herbology O.W.L.

"Now, I'm sure all of you are probably getting tired and want to be getting back to your dormitories for the evening. Before you all go, however, I have two more staffing additions to announce. Hogwarts did at one time offer these two classes, but they have not been offered in many years. It is with great pleasure that I announce the return of Art and Music classes, which will be extra-curricular activities, open to students in all years. These classes shall be taught by two recent Hogwarts graduates, who some of you will very likely remember, as they just graduated two years ago. Teaching the Art classes is a former Gryffindor who is on loan to us from Puddlemere United's reserve team, Professor Wood and filling the position of Music teacher, is a former Ravenclaw, Professor Cromwell."

Harry was again shocked to say the least and venturing a look over to where Ryan was sitting at the Ravenclaw table, he knew that his new friend was also shocked. Once again the door to the side chamber opened and Oliver Wood walked out, followed by Matthew Cromwell. Pausing to smile and wave at the students, they then took their places in the last two empty seats at the head table.

"The sign-up sheets for the four new extra-curricular activities will be posted on the bulletin boards in your house common rooms in the morning. Your Heads of House shall instruct all sixth and seventh-year students and those currently enrolled in Divination what to do about amending your schedules. Prefects, if you would please lead your houses back to their dormitories; I wish all of you a good night."

* * *

To be continued...


	6. Chapter 6

Harry Potter and the Return of the Heirs  
By J.C. Vascardi

* * *  
Chapter Six  
* * *

Harry woke up the next morning to someone shaking him. He really didn’t want to get up, but the person was insistent. Cracking his eyes open and giving them a chance to focus a little, he soon saw the rather fuzzy image of Hermione standing over him. When she noticed that Harry was finally waking up, she stopped shaking him and handed him his glasses.

Harry put them on and then sat up, before he asked, “Why are you waking me so early?”

“Early? Harry, it’s almost eleven o’clock in the morning,” Hermione admonished. “Professor McGonagall will be here in about five minutes to help the sixth years with their schedules.”

“Okay, I’ll just take a shower and I’ll come down.”

“Honestly, Harry you don’t have time,” Hermione muttered as she pulled out her wand, pointed it at Harry, and cast a showering charm on him. “Now get dressed and get down to the common room, right now!”

“Yes, sir, Madam Prefect,” Harry said in a playful tone as he saluted his friend and Hermione rolled her eyes before moving over to the next bed to wake up Ron.

Five minutes later, a rather tired looking Hermione herded the sixth-year boys down the staircase from their dormitory, just as the portrait swung open and Professor McGonagall entered the room, carrying a pile of blank schedules, as she walked over and took a seat in an armchair by the fireplace. 

Looking around the room, McGonagall said, “If you’re not a sixth-year, please leave. Seventh-years please stay in the tower, because I’ll be dealing with your schedules when I finish with the sixth-years.” All of the seventh-year students did as their Head of House instructed and headed up the stairs to their dormitories, while the students in other years grabbed their belongings, went over to the portrait and left.

“Please have your O.W.L results ready when I call your name,” McGonagall said, as she took out her wand, pointed it at the bulletin board, and waved it, causing five pieces of paper to appear on it. “Those are the sign-up sheets for the new extra-curricular activities, please sign up for those that you wish to take. I would suggest that everyone who qualifies takes Madame Pomfrey’s activity, as I’m sure it will be very useful in the year ahead.”

“Brown, Lavender,” McGonagall called, as Lavender walked over to her and began to work on her schedule. A few minutes later, Lavender was scheduled for Charms, Defense against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Herbology, Fencing and Archery. She was upset about not being able to take Divination anymore, but Harry overhead her whispering to Parvati that she didn’t mind as long as she was still in Firenze’s class, as well as Professor Lasinius’ class, because she found them both to be totally handsome.

“Finnegan, Seamus,” McGonagall called, as Seamus walked over to McGonagall and Lavender added her name to the sheets for Defense Arts, Art, and Music. Seamus was soon scheduled for Charms, Defense against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Archery, and Fencing, before adding his name to the sign-up sheets for Defense Arts and Unarmed Self-Defense.

“Granger, Hermione,” McGonagall called, and Hermione was soon scheduled to take Charms, Defense against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Herbology, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Potions, before putting her name down for Defense Arts and Basics of Battlefield Medicine.

“Longbottom, Neville,” McGonagall called, and Neville went over to schedule his classes. It took a bit longer to sort out Neville’s classes, and since it was only McGonagall and the sixth years in the common room, Harry had no problem overhearing Neville and McGonagall’s conversation.

“Herbology, Archery, and Defense against the Dark Arts is fine, Longbottom, but I can’t accept you in my N.E.W.T class. I don’t think you’d be able to handle the coursework with an ‘Acceptable’ O.W.L. I’ve never gotten the impression that you enjoyed my class, so why did you even want to take it?”

“My grandmother wanted me to,” was Neville’s muttered response.

“Oh dear lord,” McGonagall said, “it’s high time your grandmother learned to be proud of the grandson she has and not the one she thinks she should have – particularly after what happened in the Department of Mysteries. I see you have an ‘Exceeds Expectations’ in Charms, why don’t you take that?”

“My grandmother thinks it’s a soft option.”

“Take Charms,” McGonagall said, “and I shall make sure to send an owl to Augusta reminding her that the subject isn’t totally useless just because she failed her Charms O.W.L.”

Neville walked away from McGonagall with his new schedule in hand and added his names to the Defense Arts, Art, and Unarmed Self-Defense activities. Harry couldn’t help but notice the happy look on Neville’s face, which he surmised was due to a combination of McGonagall’s compliment and the knowledge that he had done better at something then his grandmother.

“Patil, Parvati,” McGonagall called and Parvati was soon scheduled for the same classes and activities as her friend Lavender. McGonagall looked slightly disgusted as Parvati walked away and Harry figured it was probably because McGonagall had a feeling that Lavender and Parvati had only signed up for Archery and Fencing so that they could spend time gazing at the teachers, rather than an actual interest in the subjects.

“Potter, Harry,” McGonagall called and Harry walked over to McGonagall.

“Let’s see here, Charms, Defense against the Dark Arts, and Herbology all fine, Potter. I was very happy about your grade in my class, so you’re clear to take that as well. Now, I’ve noticed that you haven’t signed up for Potions, despite your ‘Outstanding.’ I thought it was your ambition to be an Auror?”

Ever since receiving his O.W.L. results over the summer, Harry had been thinking about whether or not to even take Snape’s class, despite his ‘Outstanding’ O.W.L. He eventually decided that while it would be nice to shock Snape by his presence in Potions class that he wouldn’t take it. Of course, all of that changed when he found out that Bill would be teaching the class. If he could, Harry would drop Defense against the Dark Arts just to avoid being in Snape’s class, but he figured it wouldn’t look good for him to not take the class. It was also one of his best subjects, so he was looking forward to putting Snape in his place by performing very well.

“It is Professor,” Harry said, “and I’ll take Potions now. The only reason I didn’t sign up for it originally is because I didn’t really want to be in Snape’s class again.”

“Professor Snape, Potter,” McGonagall admonished, stressing the Professor.

“Sorry, Professor Snape,” Harry said. “Of course, since I didn’t plan on taking it, I didn’t buy the book or supplies for the class.”

“I’m sure Professor Weasley will have a book you can borrow and that he’ll allow you to use the school ingredients until you can get your own. Now, did you want to take any of the new electives?”

“I’ll take the Archery and Fencing classes,” Harry answered.

“Okay, then,” McGonagall said as she waved her wand over a blank schedule and handed it to Harry, “You’re all done, so why don’t you go sign up for some extra-curricular activities?”

Harry nodded and went over to the bulletin board to add his name to the lists for Defense Arts and Basics of Battlefield Medicine as McGonagall called out, “Thomas, Dean.”

Dean was soon scheduled for Charms, Defense against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Herbology, and Fencing. As McGonagall called out, “Weasley, Ronald,” Dean added his name to the lists for Defense Arts and Unarmed Self-Defense.

A few moments later, Ron was scheduled to take the same classes and activities as Harry, except that he didn’t sign up for Basics of Battlefield Medicine since he didn’t have the required ‘Exceeds Expectations’ in Herbology. McGonagall said, “All right, sixth years you can go down to lunch now. Hermione, Ron, please go to the seventh-year dorms and tell them I’m ready for them and then you can join your friends at lunch.”

As Harry left the common room, he couldn’t help but chuckle as he heard Ron complaining about prefect duties getting in the way of eating lunch.

* * *

After eating lunch, Harry slipped away from Ron and Hermione, which was really quite easy since they were to wrapped up in a lip lock to notice what was going on around them, and went back up to his dormitory. The room was, thankfully, empty, so he went over to his trunk and removed his cloak and the Marauder’s Map.

“I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good,” Harry mumbled as he tapped his wand against the parchment.

Looking at the Map, Harry soon found what he was looking for: Bill was in his quarters in the staff wing, alone.

‘Good,’ Harry thought. ‘I think it’s time I pay a little visit to my good friend Bill and see why he didn’t bother telling me about his new job.’

Wrapping the cloak around himself, Harry left Gryffindor Tower and made his way to the staff wing, making sure to check the Map at regular intervals to make sure that nobody was coming. Arriving at the door to Bill’s quarters, Harry mumbled, ‘Mischief Managed’, and placed the map in his pocket, before knocking on the door. The door soon opened to reveal Bill, who of course, didn’t see anyone.

Harry snuck quietly past Bill and into the room while Bill walked a few steps out into the hallway to check if someone had knocked and run. Shrugging his shoulders, Bill came back into his room, closed the door and turned towards his desk, his back towards the bed.

“Hello,” Harry said, causing a startled Bill to jump about three feet as he whirled around to see Harry lying on his bed.

“Harry, you shouldn’t be here,” Bill admonished. “Students aren’t allowed in the staff wing, unless invited by a professor.”

“Do I really need an invitation?” Harry asked in a low, seductive voice, as he stood from Bill’s bed, walked over, and began to caress the older red-head’s cheek.

“Harry, stop that!”

“Why?” Harry asked in an innocent tone. “Aren’t you enjoying it, Professor?”

“I am, but, what is it you just called me?”

“I called you Professor.”

“Exactly, Harry. We can’t be together like that anymore. It’s against school rules for the professors to date the students.”

“We don’t date though, remember? Dating would imply that we’re a couple, which we’re not. We’re just very good friends.”

“Harry, you know what I mean,” Bill said in an exasperated tone. “Now, please, stop that before I’m forced to give you detention.”

“Detention? Oh, I like the sound of that.”

“Okay, poor choice of words,” Bill said when he realized that Harry was taking that threat in a way opposite from his intention. “Harry, stop, or I’ll be forced to take points.”

“You’d actually take points from your own house?”

“If necessary, yes,” Bill said. “Now, Harry James Potter, stop that this minute!”

Harry stopped and said, “You’re no fun, you know.”

“I’m your Potions teacher; I’m not supposed to be fun.”

“Why did you take this job, anyway?” Harry asked as he sat down on the edge of Bill’s bed. “Better yet, why didn’t you tell me that you took it?”

“I took the job because Dumbledore needed a Potions teacher and I wanted a bit of a change of pace. As for why I didn’t tell you, Dumbledore asked me not to tell anyone, so I didn’t.”

“You could have told me,” Harry said. “I would have kept your secret.”

“Dumbledore told me not to tell a single living soul,” Bill clarified. “That, obviously, includes you, Harry.”

“Okay, okay, I forgive you. Now, come over here.”

“Harry, I meant what I said,” Bill said. “We can’t be together anymore. Teachers and students aren’t allowed to be together like that.”

“Okay, we don’t have to have sex, but can I at least have a kiss?”

“Harry...”

“Just one, Bill, that’s all I’m asking for. Think of it as a sort of goodbye kiss; to formally end our sexual relationship and just be friends from now on. At least, outside of the classroom, I promise I’ll act like a student in class and not let on that there was ever anything more then that between us.”

Bill looked around the room and then just sighed, as he pulled out his wand and he cast locking and silencing charms on his door. He then went over to the bed, sat down next to Harry, placed his hands on the sides of his face, and pulled their lips together in a passionate kiss. Their tongues wrestled each other for several minutes as they both put everything they had into this kiss, since it would be the last they would ever share.

When they finally parted, they both took a few moments to catch their breath, before Bill asked, “Happy now, Harry?”

“I’d be happier if you could fuck me one last time,” Harry admitted, “but I’ll be okay. Is there really a rule that says students can’t date teachers?”

“Yes, there is,” Bill said. “There is actually an addendum that says it’s okay if the student in question is over seventeen, but you’re not, Harry, so we can’t be together anymore.”

Harry thought for a moment and then a smile crossed his lips. Bill noticed right away and saw the mischievous glint in the younger man’s eye. “What are you thinking, Harry?”

“I was just thinking that perhaps you and Nick should get together.”

“Nick?”

“Yes, Nicolas Delaney, you remember him, right? He’s Professor Byrne’s grandson, the transfer student from Beauxbatons.”

“Harry, I just told you professors can’t date students.”

“Yes, but you also said that it was allowed if the student was seventeen, and Nick’s seventeenth birthday is a week from tomorrow.”

“Harry, I’m a professor! I can’t come onto my students; it wouldn’t be right!”

“Oh come on, Bill, I know you like him. I know you have a thing for younger men with black hair, which describes Nick to a t. True, he does, have those blond streaks, but I don’t think that’s really a problem. His eyes are a lovely shade of blue you know. Kind of like sapphires in the sun and I heard it from his own lips that he’s bisexual.”

“If you like him so much, why don’t you date him?”

“He isn’t my type. Anyway, the two of you would be perfect together.”

“Oh Harry what am I going to do with you?”

“Say you’ll at least consider going out with Nick. I mean, obviously, I don’t expect you to do anything now, while he’s underage, but after the tenth...”

“Okay, okay, I’ll consider it,” Bill said finally, if only to shut Harry up. He knew that Harry meant well and that he only wanted him to find happiness, which he appreciated. He also wasn’t about to admit it aloud, but he would be lying if he said that he didn’t find Nick Delaney to be attractive, because he did. He had been thinking about him ever since the first time he saw Nick in Diagon Alley a few days ago.

“Okay, Bill, you can’t come onto your students, I understand that. What if Nick came onto you though? After his birthday that is? He already knows that you’re gay.”

“He what? How does he know that I’m gay?”

“Oh, well, um, I sort of told Ron, Hermione, Ryan, and Nick about us on the train.”

“Harry!”

“Its okay, Bill, really. They aren’t going to tell anyone, I swear, and before you ask, they were all okay with it. It was actually kind of funny though. They all thought I should be dead by now for having slept with Fleur’s supposed mate. Why haven’t you made it clear to your family yet that you aren’t her mate?”

“You know how much I hate talking about Fleur, Harry. You know what she did to me. It’s not a subject I really want to discuss with my family.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about Fleur. Obviously, she’s left you pretty much alone since the tests said you weren’t her mate, but she’s found him now, so you don’t have to worry anymore.”

“How do you know that she’s found her mate?”

“Nick told us actually. He’s friends with her little sister Gabrielle. She told Nick in a letter that Fleur was engaged to her mate now.”

“Well, that is a relief at least. That is one wedding I wouldn’t go to for all the galleons in Gringott’s. If I never see Fleur Delacour again it will be too soon.”

“I hope you won’t let the fact that Nick is friends with Gabrielle Delacour stop you from dating him, Bill. I really do think you’d be perfect together.”

“A fact which you’ve made abundantly clear, Harry, and if you say that one more time, I’ll be forced to deduct points from Gryffindor for annoying a teacher.”

“Don’t get as bad as Snape, Bill.”

“Professor Snape, Harry, its Professor Snape.”

“Whatever,” Harry said as he stood to leave. “I’d better get going, before I’m missed. I’ll see you in class tomorrow, Professor Weasley. Oh, by the way, I wasn’t originally planning on taking Potions this year, so can I borrow a copy of Advanced Potion Making and use the school ingredients? At least until I can order some from Diagon Alley?”

“Of course, Harry. Now, as you said, you should get going before you’re missed. I have to go to the library to check on something anyway, so you can sneak out ahead of me.”

Harry smiled at Bill as he removed the charms from his door. Harry wrapped the cloak around him, and then snuck out of the room ahead of Bill.

* * *

Draco’s Journal – September 2, 1996

I’m glad to be back at Hogwarts, but at the same time, I’m not. As usual, as soon as we had some modicum of privacy, Pansy once again tried to seduce her way into my pants. I really don’t understand how she can be so dense because I’ve told her on more then one occasion that I’m not interested, but she just doesn’t take a hint.

To be perfectly honest, I am a bit afraid because as things stand now, Blaise is my only true ally among my fellow sixth-year boys. I know for a fact that Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott have every intention of following in their fathers’ footsteps and becoming Death Eaters, so I do worry about having to share a dorm room with them. I don’t really know the transfer student, Delaney, well enough yet to determine where his loyalties lie. He seems nice though and my cousin Ryan has made friends with him, so maybe he’s okay.

I have made a new ally among the sixth-year girls at least in the form of Tracey Davis. She’s always been good friends with Daphne and she assures me that I can trust Tracey. Daphne has also assured me that I can trust Adrian Pucey, the Head Boy this year, as the two of them have been dating now since the beginning of summer. I haven’t really had the chance to talk to him and see for myself yet, but it’s definitely something I’ll do. I’m a Slytherin after all, so I understand the importance of having powerful and influential friends, and as Head Boy, Pucey does fit the bill.

Blaise and I have decided to officially end our relationship as lovers. Of course, we don’t really have much choice, because it would be a bit hard to continue having sex now that we’re back at school. True, it is possible to put a silencing charm on one’s bed curtains and to make them imperturbable, but after talking about it, Blaise and I both agree that it’s time our liaisons end. We both want to find love, after all.

As for how I’m coping with my mother’s death, it’s been very hard. I don’t want my fellow Slytherins to see me cry and I’ve been doing that a lot lately. I really do wish that there was some magical way to bring my mother back, but it is one of the first things that young witches and wizards are taught growing up: magic can do many things, but resurrecting the dead is not one of them. It is of course possible to raise the dead as mindless servants known as Inferi, but I obviously have no intention of doing that to my mother.

Well, someone is coming, so I should stop writing now. The last thing I want is for anyone to be reading all of my personal thoughts.

* * *

Later that evening, after dinner and about an hour before curfew, Harry could be found aimlessly wandering the castle. Of course, he couldn’t be seen because he was wearing his cloak and using the Marauder’s Map to avoid everyone. Of course it turns out he wasn’t doing a very good job because as he approached the entrance to the bell tower, he heard what sounded like someone crying. Checking the Map, Harry’s eyes almost bulged out of his head when he saw that the only person anywhere near was the absolute last person he’d ever thought he’d find crying: Draco Malfoy.

Of course, Harry could understand why he would be crying, but it was still a bit of a shock to actually hear it. If Harry wasn’t a Gryffindor, he’d probably have just walked away, but as it was, he felt the need to go and try to comfort him, even though it was Malfoy and the help would likely be spurned. Tapping his wand against the Map, Harry mumbled, “Mischief Managed,” and then tucked it into his pocket.

Removing his cloak, Harry draped it over one arm and then entered the bell tower, to find Malfoy curled up in a ball in a dark corner of the room, shaking and sobbing. He looked so pathetic at that moment, that Harry couldn’t even feel the slightest tinge of dislike for him, even after all the years that Malfoy had spent tormenting him and his friends.

As Harry moved closer, Draco’s head jerked up. His eyes narrowed a bit and said, “Potter? What are you doing here?”

“I was taking a walk and I heard you crying.”

“I was not crying!” Draco exclaimed.

“Oh really, you weren’t? Then why are your robes all wet?”

“Okay, fine, I was crying. I swear, Potter, if you tell anyone, I’ll...”

“You’ll what, Malfoy?” Harry asked when Draco trailed off. “Hex me into next week? You’re welcome to try.”

When Draco didn’t say anything, Harry took a few steps closer, knelt beside him, and said, “I’m sorry about your mum.”

“I don’t want your bleeding sympathy!” Draco exclaimed, as he was totally not used to anyone other that his mom, Blaise and Daphne being nice to him.

Harry didn’t say anything. Instead he just stood up and turned to leave. ‘I tried to be nice to him, but it’s obvious he doesn’t want my help, so what’s the point trying any further?’

Harry was almost out the door when he heard Draco quietly say, “Harry, wait.” It was said so quietly that Harry wasn’t even sure if he had heard it properly. He turned to face Draco and said, “What did you say?”

“I said wait.”

“Other then that,” Harry said. “You called me Harry.”

“No, I didn’t,” Draco said in a slightly hesitant voice, obviously trying to cover up the fact that he actually had said Harry instead of Potter.

“Yes, you did. I heard you.”

“Well, so what if I did?” Draco drawled. “It is your name isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is,” Harry answered as he took a few steps closer and sat down on the floor across from Draco. “You’ve just never called me Harry before, so you caught me off guard.”

“I’m sorry.”

Harry just stared at Malfoy in total shock and after a few moments of being stared at, Draco asked, “What?”

“Who are you and what have you done with Malfoy?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Potter,” Draco drawled.

“First you call me by my first name,” Harry said. “Then you apologize to me. Forgive me, but I never thought I’d live to see either of those things happening.”

“Well, what can I say?” Draco asked as he placed his arms on his bent knees and rested his chin on them. “Seeing my mother die has had quite an effect on me.”

“For what it’s worth,” Harry said, “I really am sorry about your mum. I know how painful it is to see your mum murdered and I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.”

“How can you possibly remember seeing your mum die? You were only a one-year-old baby in your crib for Merlin’s sake.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Harry confirmed. “For a long time, I didn’t remember. I just vaguely remembered a flash of green light. I was never sure what it was. It wasn’t until third year that I actually remembered it all.”

“What do you mean?” Draco asked and Harry could honestly say he’d never heard Draco use that tone of voice before when talking to him. There wasn’t the slightest hint of venom, only curiosity.

“You remember how I always fainted when a Dementor came close to me?”

“Yes.”

“Well, the reason is because I was reliving that night when I was one. I could see my mum standing in front of my crib, blocking Voldemort from getting a clear shot at me. She was pleading with him not to kill me and he told her to just move out of the way and he’d let her live. She obviously didn’t move, so Voldemort killed her. I’m sure you know the rest.”

Draco was silent for a moment before he looked at Harry, his face stricken, “I’m so sorry, Harry, about making fun of you for fainting and for dressing up as a Dementor to scare you. If I had known, I never would have done that.”

“It’s okay, Draco,” Harry said, deciding that if Draco was going to use his first name, he might as well use his. “You have no way of knowing. At any rate, I do understand how you feel. Well, not entirely, since it was Voldemort that killed my mum, not my dad, but I still understand.”

“He’s not my father.”

“Pardon?”

“Lucius,” Draco spat. “He’s not my father. I refuse to call him that. He’s nothing to me and if I ever see him again, I swear, I’ll kill him for what he did... what he did...”

Draco didn’t finish what he was saying. Burying his face in his hands, he started crying again and after everything that just happened between them, Harry couldn’t just sit there and watch him cry. Moving closer to Draco, he wrapped an arm around Draco’s shoulder and pulled a bit so that Draco was crying on his shoulder, as he gently rubbed his back.

* * *

To be continued...


	7. Chapter 7

Harry Potter and the Return of the Heirs  
By J.C. Vascardi

* * *  
Chapter Seven  
* * *

Harry’s Journal – September 3, 1996

Well, today is the first day of classes. Normally I probably wouldn’t even be awake right now and I would have woken up in a fashion similar to yesterday: with Hermione shaking me, trying to get me to wake up with just enough time to quickly eat breakfast before having to go to my first class. Speaking of first classes, my first class this morning is double Potions; usually I would hate spending all morning in that class, but maybe with Bill teaching it won’t be so bad.

I suppose the reason that I’m awake so early is because of what transpired last night with Malfoy. I never thought I’d find myself in the position of having him cry on my shoulder, while I comforted him. Of course, I can certainly understand why he needed comforting, because losing one’s mother is bad enough, but actually witnessing her murder makes it even worse. I can’t imagine what it would be like if one’s father was the murderer, but I’d guess that would make it worse still, even when you have an evil git like Lucius Malfoy for a father.

Once Malfoy ran out of tears, he did thank me for comforting him and we spent the next hour chatting about various things. I’m still a bit shocked to be honest that I actually had a civil conversation with him. Of course, with the war and everything, I personally would not complain if I could put my rivalry with Malfoy to rest. Thanks to Trelawny’s damn prophecy, I have enough to worry about as it is without having to worry what Malfoy will do to my friends and me next.

I’m not sure how my friends would react if I told them that I wanted to stop fighting with Malfoy. Hermione might be willing to give him a chance, but I know that being called a Mudblood really did hurt her. I know that Ron would be totally, one hundred percent, against ending the rivalry with Malfoy. I don’t think there is anything that Malfoy could do that would ever convince Ron that he isn’t a slimy git and evil Slytherin bastard; of course, I’m not totally convinced that he isn’t yet myself. One night spent comforting him while he cried and having a civil conversation for an hour after that doesn’t really make up for five years worth of fights and insults.

Well, my dorm mates are starting to stir now, so I should stop writing and put my journal away. The last thing I need is for Ron to see this entry about Malfoy. If he saw that I was showing him even the slightest bit of compassion, he’d probably insist I go see Madame Pomfrey, because I’m sure he’d think there was something seriously wrong with my brain.

* * *

About an hour later, Harry was sitting in the Great Hall, eating breakfast with his friends when the room filled with owls as the post began arriving. A large brown owl dropped a copy of the Daily Prophet in front of Hermione, along with a small rolled up piece of parchment; Pigwidgeon and Hedwig delivered similar parchments to Ron and Harry.

Hermione decided to ignore the small parchment for a moment to take look at the Daily Prophet. Distracted momentarily from his breakfast, Ron asked, “Anyone we know dead?”

“Oh gods,” Hermione muttered.

“What’s wrong, Hermione?” Harry asked, afraid that what Ron had asked might be true.

“Lucius Malfoy escaped.”

“What? He was just captured!” Harry said as he took the proffered copy of the Prophet from Hermione and read the article.

Daily Prophet  
Morning Edition – September 3, 1996  
AZKABAN FORTRESS PRISONER SHIP ATTACKED  
Several captured Death Eaters escaped.

It has come to our attention that the most recent ship carrying prisoners bound for Azkaban Fortress has been attacked. The ship arrived at the prison late yesterday afternoon with all the prisoners gone and the crew and Aurors aboard the ship all dead. Ministry officials have confirmed that it appears that You-Know-Who sent a large team of Dementors to attack the vessel.

Among the escaped was Lucius Malfoy, who was only just recaptured a few days ago after he was arrested for using the Killing Curse on his wife, Narcissa Black Malfoy, and for using the Cruciatus Curse, on their son, Draco Malfoy. In addition to Mr. Malfoy, fifteen other known Death Eaters were aboard the vessel and all of them are now unaccounted for.

Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, said in a statement that in any other situation, it would have been nearly impossible for this attack to succeed, as the Aurors onboard would have reacted fast enough with the Patronus Charm to drive the Dementors away. He added, however, that having been on a ship bound for Azkaban Fortress before, he knows firsthand how unpleasant the journey is. Due to the prison’s far northern location, the crew, prisoners and Aurors of prison ships often spend much of their time below deck desperately trying to keep warm.

Ministry officials speculate that if the attacking force of Dementors was large enough, the Aurors and crew could very possibly have frozen solid from the cold of the environment and the fact that the Dementors would have robbed them of any of the artificial heat they had managed to produce. Examinations of the deceased crew and Aurors indicate that those who didn’t die from the Dementor’s Kiss died from extreme cases of hypothermia.

“Why use a ship?” Harry asked. “I mean, wouldn’t a portkey be more secure?”

“No, it wouldn’t,” Hermione answered. “Just like at Hogwarts, you can’t apparate at Azkaban Fortress. It also has wards to prevent the use of portkeys and none of the fireplaces are connected to the Floo Network. Its so visitors to the prison can’t slip a portkey to a prisoner so they can escape and should someone escape their cell on their own, so they can’t use one of the fireplaces to escape. Honestly, Harry, didn’t you learn anything in History of Magic?”

“I don’t recall Binns talking about Azkaban,” Harry replied. “The only things I remember him talking about are the Chamber of Secrets and goblin wars. If he talked about anything else, I was sleeping through it.”

Hermione just shook her head as she picked up the small parchment and unrolled it.

“It’s a note from Bill,” Hermione said. “It says we’re supposed to meet in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.”

“Why?” Harry asked as he unrolled his parchment and sure enough it was a note from Bill telling them to meet in the Defense classroom for their double Advanced Potions class this morning.

“The greasy-haired git probably didn’t want to give up his dungeon,” Ron said in between mouthfuls of sausages.

“Ronald, you are a prefect,” Hermione admonished. “You shouldn’t insult the professors, no matter how much you dislike them.”

“Dislike?” Ron asked. “I don’t dislike him, Hermione. I bloody hate him! He’s a slimy, evil Slytherin bastard.”

“Ron, you are very lucky,” Harry said.

“Why?”

“Because if you weren’t a prefect,” Harry said, “I’m sure Hermione would be taking points away from you.”

* * *

After breakfast, Harry, Ron, and Hermione did as their new professor instructed and went to the Defense against the Dark Arts classroom, instead of the normal potions classroom in the dungeon. When they arrived, they found that the room was now suited more to Potions class, than Defense. Several cauldrons of various potions were displayed on a long table at the front of the room and Bill was sitting at his desk.

“You can just sit anywhere for now,” Bill said as they arrived. “Don’t get too comfortable though, because you will be moving.”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat down near the front of the room. Normally, they would be inclined to sit as close to the back of the room as possible, but with Bill as their teacher, they didn’t mind sitting up front. Once the whole class had arrived, Harry scanned the room and saw that there were thirteen other people in the class: five from Slytherin, five from Ravenclaw, and three from Hufflepuff.

Once everyone was seated, Bill stood up to address the class.

“Welcome to Advanced Potions, sixth-years,” he said. “I am Professor Weasley. Now, before we begin, I just want to make a few things perfectly clear. I don’t want any of you to think that you can get away with any misbehavior in my class simply because I am younger than your other teachers. I also want to make it crystal clear, that I will be treating each and every one of you the same, regardless of any personal or familial relationships that I may have with you.”

As he said the last part, Bill looked directly at Ron, making it clear that he was especially referring to him. Ron looked a bit upset and Harry knew that it was because he was hoping that with his older brother teaching, he’d be able to glide through Potions class this year without doing much work.

“Now, before we begin, I’m going to ask that all of you stand up and go to the back of the room, as we will have a seating chart this year. It will help me to memorize all of your names, but Professor Dumbledore has also asked all the teachers with multiple house classes implement a seating chart that mixes the houses up, rather than letting housemates sit together.”

Placing his hand on the nearest workstation, Bill said, “Susan Bones and Mandy Brocklehurst.”

Susan and Mandy moved to their new seats as Bill moved to the table behind them and said, “Stephen Cornfoot and Tracey Davis.”

Stephen and Tracey sat at the indicated desk, and Bill then motioned towards the table behind them and said, “Ryan Cromwell and Nicolas Delaney; Kevin Entwhistle and Hermione Granger behind them.”

As Ryan, Nicolas, Kevin, and Hermione moved into their new seats, Bill moved back to the front of the room and placed his hand on the first workstation, across the aisle from Susan and Mandy, and said, “Daphne Greengrass and Ernie MacMillan.”

Daphne and Ernie moved to their table, as Bill moved to the table across from Stephen and Tracey and said, “Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter.”

Draco didn’t really react and just went to the indicated table and sat down. To be honest, he looked a little sick and Harry guessed that it might have something to do with the article in the Prophet this morning. Not wanting to cause a scene, despite his displeasure at having to sit next to Malfoy for the year, Harry just sat down at the desk.

“Zacharias Smith and Lisa Turpin,” Bill said as he moved to the next desk, “and finally, Ronald Weasley and Blaise Zabini.”

Chancing a look in Ron’s direction, Harry could see him glaring daggers at his brother for assigning him a seat next to a Slytherin. If Bill noticed this however, he chose to ignore it, as he walked back to the front of the classroom and said, “Now, I suggest that you all get comfortable with the people you are sitting next to, because they will be your partners for the rest of the year. If you have any personal differences between you, I highly suggest you leave them at the door, because your grade in the class will depend on your ability to work together with your partners, and I will not hesitate to fail each and every one of you, if necessary.”

Pausing for a few moments to let his words sink in, Bill went over to his desk, grabbed two old copies of Advanced Potion-Making and two sets of tarnished scales, which he placed in front of Harry and Ron, since neither of them had originally planned on taking the class and didn’t have the appropriate materials.

“Now, I have prepared a few sample potions,” Bill said as he motioned towards the potions displayed on the table at the front of the room, “to show all of you what you should be able to brew upon achieving your N.E.W.T.s. I’m sure you’ve probably heard of a few of them already. Now, can anyone tell me what this potion is?”

Bill motioned towards the first cauldron, which was full of what looked to Harry like plain water. A few hands went up, and Harry wasn’t surprised in the slightest that Hermione’s was among them.

“Yes, Mr. Cornfoot,” Bill said pointing to Stephen.

“It’s Veritaserum, sir,” Stephen said, “a colorless and odorless potion which forces the drinker to tell the truth.”

“Correct, Mr. Cornfoot. Five points to Ravenclaw. Now, how about this one? Anyone?”

Again, Hermione’s hand was one of the first to go up, but as he recognized the potion himself, Harry also raised his hand.

“Mr. Potter?”

“It’s Polyjuice Potion,” Harry answered.

“That’s correct. Now, tell me, Mr. Potter, what is its use?”

“Polyjuice Potion allows you to take on the physical appearance of another person.”

“Correct, again. Five points to Gryffindor.”

Looking over at Hermione, Harry noticed that she looked a little put out that Bill hadn’t called on her yet, but she did flash a smile at Harry to let him know she wasn’t mad at him.

“Now, can anyone tell me what this potion is?” Bill asked as he motioned to a bloody looking red potion. “Yes, Mr. MacMillan?”

“Blood Replenishing Potion,” Ernie answered confidently.

“Correct. As I’m sure it’s use is rather obvious, I won’t ask you what it’s used for. Five points to Hufflepuff.”

Pointing at another cauldron full of a potion that had a mother-of-pearl sheen and spiraling steam, Bill asked, “What is this?”

Again, Hermione’s hand went up almost immediately, but again Bill didn’t call on her. “Yes, Miss Davis?”

“It’s Amortentia, sir.”

“Correct, Miss Davis, and what is its use?”

“Amortentia is the most powerful love potion in the world, which smells differently to everyone, depending on what attracts them most.”

“Correct. Five points to Slytherin. Now, it should be noted that Amortentia does not actually create love, as nothing can manufacture or imitate real love. The potion will merely cause it’s drinker to form a powerful infatuation or obsession with an intended target.”

Motioning towards the last cauldron on the table, which was full of a thick, black tar-like substance, Bill asked, “Now, can anyone tell me what this is?”

This time the only person who raised their hand was Hermione, so Bill had little choice but to call on her. “Yes, Miss Granger?”

“It’s a Magic Containment Draught,” Hermione said. “It contains the magical ability of the drinker so that they can’t perform any magic.”

“Correct, Miss Granger. Do you by any chance now what it’s two chief, and very rare, ingredients are?”

“Acromantula venom and ground basilisk tooth.”

“Correct, Miss Granger,” Bill said with a smile. “Since this potion is actually well beyond N.E.W.T level, please take ten very well-earned points for Gryffindor.”

Moving to a curtain near his desk, Bill said, “I have one more potion to show all of you before we move on to today’s lesson.”

Pushing the curtain aside, Bill revealed another cauldron, which was full of a molten gold colored potion, huge drops of which were leaping like goldfish above the surface, though none of it had spilled.

“This most curious potion is called Felix Felicis, which is to put it simply, liquid luck. It is desperately tricky to make and disastrous to get wrong. However, if brewed correctly, as this has been, you will find that you will tend to succeed at whatever you do... at least until its effects wear off.”

“Why don’t people drink it all the time?” Zacharias Smith asked.

“Because when it is taken in excess it causes giddiness, recklessness, and dangerous overconfidence. It is also highly toxic in large doses, so it’s best to take it sparingly.”

“Have you ever taken it, Professor?” Kevin Entwhistle asked.

“Only once in my life,” Bill answered, “when I was twenty years old; one tablespoon taken with my breakfast. That day was probably one of the best of my adult life and I’m sure the Gringott’s goblins would probably agree, since during the course of that day I found about twenty million galleons worth of treasure for them. Of course, I never told them that I’d taken Felix Felicis, or as greedy as goblins are, I’m sure I wouldn’t be standing here right now, as I would have died from an overdose of too much of a good thing.”

Pausing to reflect for a moment, Bill then cleared his throat and said, “Now, I showed you the Felix Felicis for a reason. You see, that is the prize for today’s lesson. One small vial each of Felix Felicis, enough for a combined twenty-four hours of luck, will be awarded to the pair who best brews today’s potion. From dawn until dusk, you and your partner will be lucky in everything that you attempt. Now, I should warn you that Felix Felicis is a banned substance in organized competitions, such as sporting events, in addition to examinations and elections. So the winners are to use it on an ordinary day, which will soon become extraordinary!

“Now, if you will all please turn to page ten in your copies of Advanced Potion-Making, you will see the potion that we will be brewing today: the Draught of the Living Death. I know that it is much more complex then anything any of you have tried before and I don’t expect a perfect potion from anyone. However, to the team that does best, go these two small vials of liquid luck. We have a little over an hour left, so between you and your partners, you should be able to make a decent attempt. So, start brewing!”

Looking at page ten of his book, Harry was annoyed to find out that the previous owner had taken the liberty of writing things in the margins and crossing out various instructions. Judging by the flowing script, Harry guessed that the previous owner was a girl. There were also little pink hearts drawn in the margins. Despite the graffiti, Harry was still able to see the list of ingredients necessary and got up to get them from the store cupboard as Malfoy filled their cauldron with water and lit a fire underneath it.

Harry got the required ingredients, which included valerian root, sopophorous beans, powdered root of asphodel and an infusion of wormwood. When Harry arrived back at the table, he said, “Why don’t you start chopping the valerian root while I take care of crushing the asphodel root.”

Much to his surprise, Malfoy didn’t bite back with any harsh comments about taking orders from the Boy-Who-Lived. He simply nodded, took the valerian root, and started to chop it up. Looking at him, Harry could see that he was still looking rather ill and preoccupied. ‘He must be very upset that his father escaped custody,’ Harry thought. ‘Of course, considering the circumstances, I would be too.’

Placing the asphodel roots into a stone mortar, Harry grabbed a pestle and began to crush them into a fine powder. Things were going quite well, until Harry heard a gasp of pain from next to him. Looking over, he could see that Malfoy had just cut his finger while chopping the valerian roots. “Professor Weasley!” Harry called out, “come quick!”

Bill walked over quickly and seeing what happened, he took Malfoy’s hand, pulled out his wand, and cast a charm on it to stop the blood.

“I’ve temporarily staunched the bleeding, Mr. Malfoy,” Bill said as he placed his wand back in his robes, “but you’ll still want to have Madame Pomfrey take a look at that, so I’ll take you to the hospital wing.”

Malfoy just nodded as he stood up and Bill turned to address the class, “You are sixth-year students, some of you are even prefects, so I would hope that I can trust you to continue to work quietly in my absence. Please continue on your potions, I’ll be back shortly.”

Bill left the room with Malfoy in tow and Harry then turned back to the potion and began to work on it himself. Ten minutes later, Harry had added the valerian root, asphodel powder, and wormwood, and his potion resembled the ‘smooth, black currant-colored liquid’ mentioned as the ideal halfway stage, but the sopophorous beans were giving him trouble. The book said to cut them open and pour their juice into the potion, but they were very tough and resistant to Harry’s knife. Almost ready to give up, Harry squinted at the scribbles of the past owner of the book and noticed that they had apparently taken issue with many of the instructions and had written down their own suggestions. Looking at the book, Harry noticed that they had written down a note in reference to the sopophorous beans.

Crush with flat side of silver dagger; that’ll release the juice better then cutting.

Deciding to take a chance that the previous owner was right, Harry reached over and borrowed Malfoy’s abandoned silver dagger and crushed the bean with the flat side of it. Almost instantly, a large amount of juice came out of the bean and Harry realized that maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that the previous owner had felt it necessary to correct Libatius Borage’s instructions. Adding the sopophorous juice to the potion, Harry was pleased to see it immediately turn the exact shade of lilac described by the textbook.

Any annoyance that he had originally felt with the previous owner had now vanished completely as he leaned down and read the next line of instructions which said to stir counterclockwise until the potion turned as clear as water. Looking at the margin of the book though, Harry wasn’t the least bit surprised to see that the previous owner had taken issue with this instruction as well.

Add one clockwise stir after every seventh counterclockwise stir.

‘Well, they were right about crushing those beans, so I might as well,’ Harry thought as he began to stir the potion, making sure to add a clockwise stir after the seventh counterclockwise stir. The effect was immediate as the potion’s color turned palest pink. Continuing the pattern of one clockwise stir to every seven counterclockwise, Harry continued stirring until Bill came back and called out, “Time! Stop stirring, everyone.”

Bill then began to walk around the classroom to inspect the potions, starting with Ron and Blaise’s. “Not bad, but not good either,” Bill said as he looked at the thick purple goop in Ron and Blaise’s cauldron.

Moving to Kevin and Hermione next, Bill complimented them on having achieved nearly the proper color and consistency, though Harry could tell from the tone of his voice that it wasn’t quite perfect and he was reserving final judgment of who would get the Felix Felicis until he’d seen everyone’s attempts. Continuing around the room, Bill finally stopped at Harry’s workstation and looked down at the clear watery liquid in the cauldron with astonishment.

“Mr. Potter, this is perfect!” Bill exclaimed, as he took the two vials of Felix Felicis from his robe pocket and handed them to Harry. “Excellent, truly excellent, the clear winner; so, as promised here are the two vials of Felix Felicis. If you could drop by the hospital wing and give Mr. Malfoy his vial, I would appreciate it. I truly didn’t expect such a perfect potion from anyone, so thirty points to Gryffindor and thirty to Slytherin for a job very well done.”

Looking around the room, Harry noticed that the people in Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff looked rather indifferent, but Ron and Hermione were smiling widely at him, as were, to his surprise, all the Slytherins in the class. ‘Probably because I just earned them points, since Malfoy is technically my partner.’

“Before you go, for homework I want a scroll from each of you that is at least a foot, but no more then a foot and a half, all about the properties, ingredients, and history of today’s potion. The assignment is due when we next meet, on Friday afternoon. Class dismissed.”

* * *

After class, Hermione, Ron, and Harry went to the Great Hall for lunch. Harry was glad that Hermione wasn’t too angry at him for winning the Felix Felicis, as he had assumed that she would be angry about being beaten. They all sat down at their usual spots at the Gryffindor table and began to eat.

Between bites of food, Ron said, “Great job, Harry! I don’t know how you did it, but wow! Two vials of luck! What are you going to do with them?”

“Ron I haven’t decided what I’ll do with mine, but as for the other one, I’m going to stop at the hospital wing on my way to Herbology.”

“You’re not seriously going to give one of them to Malfoy are you, Harry?”

“Yes, Ron, I am,” Harry said.

“Are you bloody mad?” Ron asked. “You’ve got two vials of luck, Harry! Why waste one on the bloody ferret boy?”

“Professor Weasley told him to give it to him, Ron,” Hermione said in defense of Harry. “He is only doing what any student should do when asked to do something by a professor. You’re a prefect, Ron, you should know that.”

“Hermione, this is Malfoy we’re talking about.”

“I wasn’t under the impression that who we are talking about made a difference.”

“Doesn’t make a difference? Hermione, how can you say that? After everything, that slimy git has done to us? Do you realize how many times he’s called you a Mudblood? Why would you want to do him any favors?”

Hermione remained quiet for a few moments and then said, in a tone that was as cold as ice, “Ronald Bilius Weasley! If you ever call me that again, prefect or not, I will hex you into the middle of next week!”

“What? I didn’t call you anything!” Ron protested.

“Yes, you did, brother dear,” Ginny said as she came over. “I heard you loud and clear.”

“Anyway, Harry, we may not like Malfoy,” Hermione said, “but I’m glad that you intend to follow Professor Weasley’s instructions and give the other vial of Felix Felicis to Malfoy. After the week he’s had, he probably could use a little luck anyway.”

“I heard about your success in Potions, Harry,” Ginny said as she smiled at him. “Congratulations!”

“Thanks, Ginny.”

“Harry, I’ve been wondering how you did it? I mean, I know you did get an Outstanding O.W.L. in Potions, but how did you manage to brew a perfect batch of the Draught of the Living Death?”

“Well, I followed the instructions in the book,” Harry hedged.

“So did Stephen and I, but ours wasn’t perfect,” Hermione said. “What did you do differently?”

“Well, I crushed the sopophorous beans with the flat side of a silver dagger, which released the juice a lot better then cutting. I also added a clockwise stir after every seventh counterclockwise.”

“Harry, I thought you said you followed the instructions in the book, but none of that is even mentioned in Advanced Potion-Making, so where did you get the idea to do it?”

“Well, Hermione, I said I followed the instructions in the book. I just didn’t say that they were Libatius Borage’s instructions. The previous owner of the book seems to have taken issue with a lot of what he wrote and put their own suggestions in the margins.”

“You’ve been taking orders from something that someone wrote in a book?” Ginny asked, suddenly very angry.

Realizing immediately what was on her mind, Harry said, “It’s nothing, Ginny. It isn’t like Riddle’s diary; it’s just an old textbook that someone scribbled in.”

“But you’re doing what it says?” Ginny pressed.

“Honestly, there’s nothing to worry about. I just tried a few of the suggestions written in the margins.”

“Ginny has a point, Harry,” Hermione said. “We should at least check the book to make sure there’s nothing off about it.”

“I think you’re overreacting, but fine, check away,” Harry said as he laid his copy of Advanced Potion-Making in front of Hermione.

“Specialis Revelio!” Hermione muttered as she tapped her wand on the front cover. Nothing whatsoever happened.

“Finished?” Harry asked. “Or would you like to wait and see if it’s going to jump up and dance?”

“It does appear to be just a normal, old textbook,” Hermione said.

“Good, I’ll take it back then,” Harry said as took the book and was about to put it in his book bag, when Ginny grabbed his arm.

“I’d still feel better if we knew who owned the book before you, Harry,” Ginny said. “We can research the person to make sure they’re okay and you should avoid using any of their tips until we’re sure.”

“Fine,” Harry said as he opened the front cover of the book and looked for a name. After a moment, Harry did find the name of the previous owner, written in the same flowing script as all the suggestions had been. Looking at the name in the book, Harry was suddenly overcome with tears and clutched the book to his chest.

“What is it, mate?” Ron asked. “Who did it belong to?”

Wiping away his tears with his sleeve, Harry turned the book around so that all of his friends could read the inscription on the inside front cover.

This Book is the Property of Lily Evans.

* * *

To be continued...


	8. Chapter 8

Harry Potter and the Return of the Heirs  
By J.C. Vascardi

* * *  
Chapter Eight  
* * *

Harry’s Journal – September 4, 1996

After their initial shock had worn off, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny understood my reaction to finding out whom that Charms book I borrowed belonged to. Ginny no longer felt it necessary to research the owner, as she didn’t think anything that my mum would have written in the book would ever be dangerous. Hermione said that she might have been a little worried if it had been my father, seeing as how he was a Marauder and all, but she said she didn’t worry about my mother.

I’m truly happy to finally have something of my mother’s. While it is true that I have her eyes, it’s nice to have something tangible that I can actually touch. I’ve had my dad’s Invisibility Cloak since first year and the Marauder’s Map since third, but I’ve never had anything of mum’s. Hermione said that I should go talk to Professor Flitwick though and ask him if I can keep the book, lest he remember loaning it and then take points away from Gryffindor for not returning it. I don’t have Charms again until second period on Thursday afternoon, but Hermione said I should probably ask before that if the opportunity arises.

Despite what Bill and Hermione said, Ron is still taking immense pleasure from what happened to Malfoy, he’s just being careful not to do it in front of Hermione. Ron hasn’t tried to give Neville any points for breaking Malfoy’s nose, but Ron did convince Neville to play a game of wizard’s chess with him last night. I watched enough of the match to know that Ron was purposely playing badly, probably figuring that after what Neville had done, if he couldn’t give him points, he’d at least give Neville bragging rights that he’d beaten the undisputed Gryffindor chess champion. It’s not like it would be hard for Ron to schedule a rematch later and mop the floor with Neville, because Ron was hands down the best chess player in the tower.

Well, it’s about time to head down for breakfast. Perhaps I can stop at Professor Flitwick’s office on my way and ask about the book.

* * *

Harry was soon walking down to the Great Hall for breakfast, deciding to detour through the Charms corridor, hoping to run into Professor Flitwick. As it happened, luck was on his side as Professor Flitwick came out of his office just as Harry turned the corner.

“Good morning, Professor Flitwick,” Harry said as he caught up to his diminutive professor.

“Good morning, Harry,” Professor Flitwick answered.

“Professor, you remember that book I borrowed yesterday?”

“Oh, yes, with everything that happened with Mr. Malfoy I totally forgot about it.”

“Well, um, I was wondering if I could keep it.”

“Why? Surely you have your own copy.”

“Well, yes, I do,” Harry said. “It’s just that when I looked at who owned the book prior to me I had a bit of a shock. It was a pleasant one, but a shock nonetheless.”

“What do you mean, Harry?”

“Well, of all the books you could have loaned me, you somehow managed to give me my mum’s old book.”

Professor Flitwick stopped walking and turned to look at Harry, “I did?”

“Yes,” Harry said as he pulled the book from his bag, opened the front cover, and showed it to his professor. He had packed it just in case he had the chance to talk to Professor Flitwick. “See?”

“Well, I’ll be what a coincidence.”

“So, as I said, I was sort of hoping I could keep it. I have very few things to remember my parents by, so it would really mean a lot to me.”

“Of course, Harry,” Professor Flitwick said almost immediately.   
“Had I realized I had Lily’s book all this time I would have given it to you years ago. She was such a gifted student, your mother. A good professor tries never to favor any of his students, but it was very hard when it came to your mother. She was probably one of the best students I’ve ever had the pleasure of teaching.”

“Thank you, Professor,” Harry said with a smile as he placed the book back in his bag. Harry was so happy that on impulse he knelt down and hugged Professor Flitwick, something which he had never done before, but at that moment, he was just so caught up in his emotions that it seemed like the right thing to do. Professor Flitwick patted him on the back and smiled when the hug ended, before the two of them resumed the walk to the Great Hall for breakfast.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Harry was done eating breakfast when he noticed Ryan and Nicolas standing up from their tables and heading for the doors. Hermione and Ron were once again distracted by each other, so they didn’t notice when Harry stood up and left the table to catch up with his newest friends.

“Morning Harry,” Ryan said with a smile.

“Morning, Ry, Nick. Where are you two off to?”

“Hospital wing,” Ryan answered, “to visit Draco.”

“You mean he’s still in the hospital wing?”

“I assume so,” Nicolas replied. “I didn’t see him in the common room all evening and his bed hasn’t been slept in.”

“Hmm, well, that does sound like Draco,” Harry muttered and when he noticed the curious looks from his friends, he elaborated. “In third year Magical Creatures class he got a very minor scratch from a Hippogriff and then proceeded to miss classes and pawn his work off on other students for weeks. He even used his injury to get out of playing a difficult Quidditch match in unfavorable weather, even though by then he was no more injured than any of us are now.”

“Well, I think I’m beginning to understand why you dislike him so much,” Ryan said.

“Ron would say dislike is an understatement. He’d say he hates him. Malfoy has gotten Hermione, Ron, and I into so much trouble over the years and done everything he can to make our lives a living hell. So, Ron’s hatred of him isn’t totally unfounded. Hermione hates the fact that Malfoy calls her a Mudblood every chance he gets.”

“Sounds like he’s been truly terrible in the past,” Nicolas commented. “I don’t know him that well, but we do share a dorm room, so I have been keeping an eye on him. He seems to be very quiet and withdrawn lately, of course, after what happened to his mum, I can understand why.”

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking of trying to bury the hatchet with him myself,” Harry revealed. “Um, look, if I tell you two a secret, will you swear to keep it to yourselves? Nobody, especially Ron, must know about it.”

“Sure, Harry, you can trust us,” Ryan said.

“Okay, well, the night before last, I found Malfoy alone in the bell tower. He was crying, something which I never thought I’d witness. Being a Gryffindor, I felt compelled to help him and to make a long story short, he ended up crying on my shoulder for awhile and then we had a civil conversation for about an hour after that.”

“Wow. So you think you two might be able to be friends?”

“I’m not sure, Ry,” Harry admitted as they arrived at the hospital wing. “I don’t think an hour of civil conversation is enough to make up for five years of fights and insults, but I suppose it could be a step in the right direction. I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to ending my rivalry with him though because I have far more important things to worry about.”

“Such as?” Nicolas prompted.

“I’d rather not get into it,” Harry answered, as the three of them walked into the hospital wing, to see it was almost empty, with the exception of Draco sitting up in bed eating breakfast, his nose looking perfectly fine.

“Here to visit Mr. Malfoy?” Madame Pomfrey asked when she saw them. “Or is there another reason you’re here?”

“Visiting Draco,” Ryan said. “He is my cousin and Nick is his dorm mate, so it only makes sense we’d drop by.”

“Yes, that’s true,” Madame Pomfrey agreed. “That doesn’t however explain why you are here, Mr. Potter. I can’t imagine you coming to visit Mr. Malfoy, at least not of your own free will.”

“Well, I hadn’t intended to, but I got to talking with Ryan and Nick, and here I am.”

“Yes, here you are,” Madame Pomfrey agreed. “Well, I can let you all in to see him, but I don’t want you starting anything, Mr. Potter.”

“Trust me; if anything gets started it’ll be Malfoy starting it.”

“Keep an eye on those two for me, will you?” Madame Pomfrey asked, looking at Ryan and Nicolas.

“No problem,” Ryan answered, as Nicolas nodded.

“Well, I have to work on my lesson plans for my seventh-year class,” Madame Pomfrey commented. “So, I’ll be in my office if you need me.”

Harry, Ryan, and Nicolas nodded to the nurse, before they all went over to Draco’s bedside. Harry and Nicolas sat on the neighboring bed and Ryan sat at the foot of Draco’s bed.

“Hey, Draco,” Ryan said. “How’s your nose?”

“It’s fine; I wanted to leave yesterday, but Madame Pomfrey insisted I stay. I guess fixing a broken nose is one of the more complicated breaks to fix and requires more time than usual in the hospital wing.”

“So you think you’ll be up for going to your classes today?”

“Yes, Delaney, I will be.”

“You’re welcome to call me Nick, you know.”

“Thanks, but I really don’t know you very well yet, so I think I’ll stick with Delaney.”

“Fair enough,” Nick said with a sigh and Harry could tell that he’d rather Draco called him Nick, but he wasn’t going to push the issue.

“So, Potter, what brings you here? I can’t imagine you’d be concerned for me.”

“Well, actually, I was, Malfoy. Maybe it’s the Gryffindor in me, but I was concerned. I was sitting right next to you when that teapot hit you after all. Close enough to hear your nose breaking in fact.”

“Okay, Potter, you don’t have to rub it in.”

“Well, just be thankful you’re a wizard, Malfoy. If you were a Muggle and broke your nose, you’d be wearing a splint for the next few weeks.”

“Trust me, Potter, I thank the Gods every day that I was born a wizard. Of course, then again there are times when I wish I wasn’t, or more accurately, that my sire wasn’t.”

“Why?” Nick asked.

“Well, if he wasn’t a wizard he couldn’t have used the Cruciatus curse on me all those times and he couldn’t have used the Killing curse on my mother.”

“Why did he use the Cruciatus on you, anyway?”

“He was punishing me.”

“Punishing you?”

Draco sighed, before drawling, “Yes, Potter, let me to say this slowly enough so that even you will understand. My sire felt it was necessary to punish me whenever I did something he didn’t approve of. The morning my mother died he was punishing me for something that really wasn’t even my fault.”

“What was he punishing you for?” Nick asked.

“For coming in second best to Granger in grades,” Draco elaborated. “He felt that as a pureblood, I shouldn’t allow a muggle-born to achieve better grades then me. It wasn’t the first time that he’d tortured me because of that reason. That’s the biggest reason I think why I’ve always been so cruel to Granger over the years and started calling her that name meaning dirty blood in second year. I was angry and blamed her for my pain.”

“It’s not Hermione’s fault that Lucius tortured you, Malfoy.”

“I realize that, Potter, but think about it for a moment; assuming that is you are capable of thought. In second year when I started calling Hermione that name, I was only twelve years old. My sire had already been using the Cruciatus on me for years for various things, but Granger beating me academically during first year incensed him more then I’d ever seem him. He used the curse on me for several minutes at a time almost daily throughout the summer. I realize now that it wasn’t really Granger’s fault, but at the time, I did blame her.”

“So you don’t blame her now?”

“No, Ryan, I don’t. I realized awhile ago that it wasn’t Granger’s fault. The only person I should really blame is my warped jackass of a sire.”

“If he’s been so bad to you, why did you get so upset at me last year after he’d been sent to Azkaban?”

“Oh Gods, Potter, are you really as stupid as you sound? I’ve told you that my father punished me whenever I did something he didn’t like. Well, it was for that reason that I have always acted a certain way in public. If I hadn’t gotten mad about his imprisonment and he found out that I didn’t, he would probably have killed me for disloyalty.”

“Cut the crap, Malfoy. Everyone knows you’re a junior Death Eater in training.”

“No, Potter, I’m not,” Draco said as he rolled up his left sleeve to show that there was no Dark Mark. “I don’t want anything to do with that madman who calls himself the Dark Lord; I never have. As for my sire, after what he did to my mother, I don’t want anything to do with him either.”

“Does this mean you’re not going to act like you used to?”

“Yes, Delaney, it does. I only acted the way I did before out of fear of what my sire would do to me. Now I could care less and I intend to act the way I want to. If my sire doesn’t like it, he can just go fuck himself for all I care.”

Looking at his watch, Ryan said, “Well, first period is going to start in about five minutes, so I guess we should say goodbye, Draco.”

“Madame Pomfrey!” Draco called out.

The nurse emerged from her office and asked, “Yes, Mr. Malfoy?”

“Am I free to go? I don’t want to miss fencing class.”

“I was against Professor Dumbledore adding fencing and archery to the offerings, but he didn’t listen to me. They’re such violent classes which will probably cause their fair share of injuries. I realize we’re at war, but still. Oh well, Professors Lasinius and Firenze have assured me that they’ll be using dulled blades and arrows with rounded heads for now, so I guess there won’t be too many injuries. You’re free to go, Mr. Malfoy, just be careful. I was able to fix your nose this time, but each successive break makes it harder to fix, even with magic.”

Draco nodded, before he stood up and followed Ryan, Nicolas, and Harry out of the hospital wing. The four of them all had fencing class this morning and they all walked silently outside to the edge of the lake where Professor Lasinius had told the class to meet him.

* * *

Ryan, Draco, Harry, and Nicolas soon found themselves out by the lake. Professor Lasinius was standing near to a large rack of swords. He was dressed in the same ocean blue robes that he had been wearing at the arrival feast, however, there was now a black dragon hide scabbard attached to his belt. Harry couldn’t help but notice that Head Boy Adrian Pucey and Head Girl Katie Bell had come and he didn’t understand why they’d come to a sixth-year class.

“Welcome to Fencing, sixth-years and seventh-years,” Professor Lasinius said as he turned to address the class. “I am Professor Lasinius. Now, some of you might be wondering why Mr. Pucey and Miss Bell are here, since you usually do not have classes with other years. The truth of the matter is that Mr. Pucey and Miss Bell were the only seventh-year students who signed up for my class, so rather than teaching a seventh-year class with only two students, I decided it best to just ask them to join in on my sixth-year class.

“Now, let me first say that I expect each and every one of you to take this class very seriously and to not goof off. While it is true that we will be using dulled swords for the moment which would have a hard time cutting parchment, let alone skin, I do want to impress upon you that this will be one of your more dangerous classes. If I see any of you handling swords in an inappropriate way, I will not hesitate to take points, give detentions, or if necessary remove you from this class permanently.”

Professor Lasinius paused a moment, before continuing, “Now, I’m going to call each of your names. When I do, come over here and I’ll determine which of the swords in the rack is best suited to you. Once everyone has a sword, I’ll give further instructions.”

Class went rather well, as far as Harry was concerned. Professor Lasinius didn’t assign any partners, which at first Harry thought was rather odd considering his other professors had all said that Professor Dumbledore wanted multiple house classes to be mixed up so that housemates wouldn’t be together. Adrian Pucey did in fact ask about that and Professor Lasinius responded that he had permission from Dumbledore to ignore that particular request. Professor Lasinius explained that Dumbledore agreed with him that assigning partners in this class would be wrong, at least until Professor Lasinius had an opportunity to assess everyone’s skill level and then assign partners accordingly, regardless of houses.

Most of the students in class seemed to have very little experience with a blade and it showed. There were a few students, however, that stood out, perhaps the most obvious being Ryan Cromwell. When class was over, Professor Lasinius dismissed everyone, except for Ryan, who he asked to stay behind.

“I was very impressed with your performance in class today, Mr. Cromwell.”

“Thank you, Professor.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, where did you learn to fence so well?”

“My late grandfather, William Cromwell,” Ryan answered. “He started giving me lessons shortly after I turned five and continued until his death when I was ten. He also taught my cousin Matt and he helped me practice quite a bit as we were growing up.”

“So Matt continued tutoring you after your grandfather died?”

“No, shortly after grandfather passed away, my grandmother and I packed up and moved to the United States. She never actually said as much, but I always assumed that it was too painful for her to be at Cromwell Hall without my grandfather; too many memories.”

“Yes, that would make sense,” Professor Lasinius agreed. “Now, I’m not really sure what to do with you, Mr. Cromwell. Your ability outweighs most of the other students and I’m not sure I’ll be able to partner you with anyone who would be an appropriate challenge.”

“I don’t mind, Professor,” Ryan said. “It just feels good to be fencing again, I’ve missed it. I didn’t really get the chance to practice much in the States, because my grandmother didn’t know the first thing about it and most of my friends at school had never so much as looked at a sword, let alone used one.”

“Well, I do feel that a student with your past experience should be challenged, so, since there is an un-even number of students in class anyway, what would you have any objections about partnering with me for the year? I’ll see to it that you get plenty of practice and you can perhaps help me to keep an eye on the class; sort of like being my assistant professor.”

“Wow, I don’t know what to say,” Ryan said. “Sure, sounds good.”

“Good, Mr. Cromwell,” Professor Lasinius said. “Now do you need a note to your next professor explaining you were late?”

“No, I have next period free,” Ryan answered. “So, I’m heading up to the library to do some research with a friend.”

“Okay then, Mr. Cromwell. Well, don’t let me keep your friend waiting.”

“Goodbye, Professor.”

“Goodbye, Mr. Cromwell,” Professor Lasinius said as he watched Ryan head back to the castle.

When he was sure that Ryan was out of earshot, he smiled said quietly, “He certainly has turned into a well-rounded and capable young man since I saw him last.”

* * *

To be continued...


	9. Chapter 9

Harry Potter and the Return of the Heirs  
By J.C. Vascardi

* * *  
Chapter Nine  
* * *

It was the Saturday morning immediately following his birthday, that Nicolas Delaney had a very interesting conversation with his new friend Harry. Nick had known since the train ride to Hogwarts that Harry had slept with Bill Weasley, but he didn’t think much of it at the time. However, when he saw Bill for the first time, Nick realized immediately what the appeal for Harry had been. Nick usually didn’t go for red-heads, but in Bill’s case, he was definitely willing to make an exception. Ever since the feast, Nick found himself thinking and fantasizing about his new professor.

So, when Harry came to him and told him about his encounter with him in the staff wing, Nick couldn’t help but be elated at the news. Not only did Bill have a thing for younger men with black hair, but Nick now knew that he couldn’t get in trouble for dating a professor, as he was now seventeen and of legal age in the wizarding world. After the conversation, Nick used some of the cunningness that had gotten him into Slytherin to figure out what Bill did with his free time.

He soon realized that Bill liked to go for a two-hour run around the grounds in the mornings and it was then that he decided it would be a good idea to go for a run himself and make sure that he “accidentally” ran into Bill. He hoped that Bill would then invite him to join him and that perhaps it would go well enough that they could start running together every morning. Nick wasn’t usually an early riser and doing this would mean waking up at like five in the morning, but if it brought him closer to Bill, he was more than willing to deal with it.

Donning a jogging suit and a pair of running shoes that he’d bought on his trip to Muggle London before school started, Nick left the castle and ran down to the lake. From his spying earlier in the week, he’d found out that Bill usually spent about fifteen minutes stretching near the lake before starting his run. Not seeing any sign of his professor yet, he started doing some warm-up exercises to pass the time. Of course, he didn’t have to wait all that long, because within about ten minutes, he caught sight of Bill heading in his direction.

“Good morning, Mr. Delaney,” Bill said as he noticed Nick.

“Good morning, Professor,” Nick said with a smile.

“What brings you out here so early in the morning?”

“Thought I’d do a little exercising,” Nick said. “I meant to start sooner, but I wanted to settle in for a bit first.”

Bill nodded and began to do his own warm-up exercises and Nick wasn’t sure if it was wishful thinking or what, but he could swear he’d caught his professor stealing occasional glances at him. Encouraged by the chance that Bill was checking him out, Nick decided that he might as well make sure that Bill had a good show and started to do some exercises which really showed off his muscles and various curves.

Bill noticed that Nick seemed to be showing off a bit, but he wasn’t about to complain. He had after all been lusting over Nick since that first day he’d met him in Diagon Alley. The two of them continued to exercise in silence for several minutes before Bill decided to break it by asking, “I heard you recently celebrated a birthday. Are you enjoying being seventeen?”

“Oh yeah,” Nick said at once. “I’m glad to finally be seventeen; I’ve been looking forward to it for so long.”

“I know the feeling. I remember that by the time I was almost seventeen, I was so excited about it that I couldn’t contain myself. Mum was a little hurt because she thought I was happy that I’d be able to move out on my own soon, but that wasn’t the case, as she soon learned when I stayed on at home for another year before I finally went off to Egypt for the first time.”

“What’s Egypt like? I always thought it might be an interesting place to visit, but my grandmother has never been into traveling that much. She travels when she has to, but she prefers to stay at home, so there are a number of places I’d like to see that I’ve never had the opportunity to.”

“It’s a very interesting place,” Bill said. “Of course, it’s also hot and getting sand in your shoes can be annoying, but all in all, I did enjoy it. Many people don’t know this, but they still have a Pharaoh you know.”

“Really?”

“Yes, Pharaoh Khafra CXLVIII (the 148th), he’s the Egyptian equivalent of Minister Scrimgeour, except that he isn’t an elected official. When he dies, his son Prince Khufu LXIX (the 89th) will become Pharaoh.”

“Have you ever met him? The Pharaoh I mean?” Nick asked as they finished their warm-up exercises and began running.

“Yes. Have you ever heard of Felix Felicis?”

“Yeah, it’s the luck potion, isn’t it?”

“Indeed it is. Well, when I was twenty-one, I took a dose of it one morning before heading out to the Valley of the Kings to work on breaking through the curses of a newly discovered tomb. The Muggles had long ago declared the tomb fully explored, but we knew better.  
Muggle archaeologists are incapable of reaching the areas that curse-breakers like me work in because the areas are hidden behind several layers of ancient and very complex magic. They don’t realize it of course, but many of the tombs they thought had been looted and desecrated by tomb robbers were not entirely empty. In most cases, the majority of the Pharaohs’ treasure and their mummies were placed behind so many layers of magic that the average tomb robber, the majority of which were Muggles, would have died long before reaching them.

“Anyway, that was probably the best day of my life, because after my team and I broke through the ancient curses, we came upon a room practically overflowing with golden artifacts. It was one of the largest finds we’d ever found and the goblins were of course thrilled with my success. Of course, I also ended up meeting the Pharaoh because of it, because according to the agreement between the Egyptian wizarding government and Gringott’s, all treasure is to be split equally. The Pharaoh was, of course, extremely interested in meeting the curse-breaker leading the team that had discovered a treasure valued at a little over fifty million galleons.”

“Wow, if my math is right that’s like £250,000,000.”

“Yeah, it is,” Bill confirmed after he did some quick calculating of his own. As a pureblood wizard, Bill’s knowledge of Muggles was a bit obscure, but one thing that he did pick up while working at Gringott’s was the exchange rate between British pounds and Wizard galleons; one galleon is equal to five pounds.

After that, Bill and Nick fell into a companionable silence as they continued their run. While it was true that Nick had never risen quite as early as Bill usually did for a run, he had done his fair share of running, so he had no problem keeping up with the older red-head; of course, that didn’t stop him from falling behind occasionally to get a glimpse of Bill’s backside. Careful to not let Bill notice, Nick couldn’t help but grin when he realized that Bill seemed to be doing the same thing occasionally.

After finishing the run, they said their goodbyes and headed back to the castle. Of course, the next morning, the two of them were right back at the lake at the same time warming up and then going for another run. Unbeknownst to each other, they were both immensely enjoying the extra time in each other’s company and were both wishing that something, anything, would happen that would bring them even closer.

* * *

“So how is your class going, Valen?”

“Very good, Albus,” Valen answered. “At first there were a few problems, as many of the students had never handled a sword, but they’re learning.”

“What is this I hear about you making young Mr. Cromwell your assistant professor?”

“Ah, yes, well, he has an ability that far outshines anyone in the class because his grandfather taught him for five years before his death. So, since there are an odd number of students in class anyway, I figured the only way I could give him an appropriate challenge was to make myself his partner and I then asked him to help me keep an eye on the other students and to give them a few pointers when he could.”

Albus just nodded and sipped his tea before asking, “So, Valen, how do you know Mr. Cromwell?”

“Nothing gets past you does it?”

“When you reach my age, there is very little that escapes your notice.”

‘If you only knew, Albus,’ Valen thought as he simply nodded to the headmaster and then said, “Well, I haven’t told Ryan this yet, but, the fact of the matter is I met him for the first time when he was two years old.”

“Really and how did that meeting come about?”

“Well, I was asked by an interested party to check on Ryan and make sure that he was being well taken care of. I’m happy to say that I was able to give a glowing report because William and Lucinda Cromwell did a very good job with him.”

“I don’t mean to pry, but what do you mean ‘an interested party’?”

“I’m referring to his father.”

“His father is alive?”

“Yes, although for reasons I am unable to discuss at the present time, he has not been able to be a part of his son’s life.”

“And how exactly do you know Mr. Cromwell’s father?”

“We’ve been friends since childhood,” Valen answered. “He’s also my brother-in-law; my elder sister’s husband.”  
“Ah, I see and do you intend to tell Mr. Cromwell this information?”

“No, I don’t, at least not for the moment. My sister and his father have requested that I not tell him for the moment. They said they will decide when the time is right to tell him and that until then I’m not to tell him.”

Albus just nodded and said, “Well, Valen, if you’ll excuse me I have some paperwork to do.”

“Of course, Headmaster,” Valen said as he finished his tea and stood to leave.

‘Hmm, I probably shouldn’t have told him anything. He’d have my head on a platter if he knew I told anyone. Oh well, its easily fixed.’

Valen headed for the door as Albus bent low over his desk and started writing something. Valen quickly scanned the room to make sure none of the portraits were watching him before he pointed at Albus and whispered, “Obliviate!”

After Valen left, Albus looked up towards the doors to his office and muttered, “Hmm, interesting; very interesting indeed,” before he went back to his paperwork.

* * *

Harry was sitting alone on the edge of the lake, lost in his thoughts. Over the past several days, he’d been watching Draco and he would have had to be blind not to see the change in him. Draco still insulted him every now and then, but something about the look in Draco’s eyes when he did it told him that it was no more in jest than anything else. In fact, in the last few days, Harry saw a side of Draco that at one time he would have bet all the galleons in Gringott’s that it didn’t exist.

Just last night, Harry had a chat with Ryan who informed him that he was dating Justin Finch-Fletchley now and that Draco had caught them snogging in a broom cupboard on the third floor the previous night. Harry was frankly surprised that the news wasn’t all over the school now and that Draco didn’t take any points or attempt to get Ryan and Justin in trouble. Harry knew that Justin was a prefect now, so he knew that Draco couldn’t take points from him, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t take points from Ryan. They were family, yes, but Harry never would have believed that fact alone would stop Draco from getting anyone in trouble.

It had really gotten Harry thinking more and more about putting his rivalry with Draco to a rest. He knew that Ron would be furious with him, but he could only hope that once he knew about the prophecy, he’d understand why Harry didn’t want to have to worry about Draco this year. Harry was so lost in his thoughts, that he hadn’t noticed anyone approaching until someone said, “Hello, Potter.”

Looking up, Harry saw Draco standing there and nodded before saying, “Hello, Malfoy.”

“It’s getting rather close to curfew you know.”  
“Looking to get me into trouble, Malfoy?”

“No, Potter, just a friendly reminder.”

“A friendly reminder? Since when have we ever been friendly?”

“I’ll admit we haven’t been in the past,” Draco drawled. “However, I think that’s been changing. In case you haven’t noticed, my insults don’t really have the same bite as they used to.”

“Yes, I did notice,” Harry said. “Something in your tone seems softer and less venom-laced; and then there’s the look in your eyes.”

“What look?”

“I don’t know, but I’ve noticed a slight twinkle in your eyes the last couple of times you insulted me, almost as if you were having fun doing it, but didn’t really mean what you were saying.”

“Malfoy Code of Conduct, rule number 238 states that a Malfoy always means what they say,” Draco recited with a grin on his face.

“There’s that twinkle again,” Harry said.

Draco just smiled as he sat down beside Harry and said, “Okay, I admit, I’ve always thought that most of the rules that my sire has drilled into my brain since I was born were totally stupid. I just never said anything because...”

At this point, Draco’s skin blanched even whiter then usual, if that’s possible and before Harry realized what he was doing, he reached over and patted Draco’s knee, “It’s okay, Draco. You’re safe at Hogwarts; he won’t get onto the grounds, not with all the extra security measures this year.”

Draco cocked his head and looked at Harry for a moment before he said, “You know, that’s the second time you’ve called my ‘Draco’.”

“Well, it is your name isn’t it?”

“Yes, I’m just so used to you calling me Malfoy, it seems strange.”

“I’m going to be honest with you, Draco. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately and I’ve come to realize that I have enough on my plate this year without worrying about what you’re going to do next, so I was wondering if we could perhaps call a truce?”

“A truce?”

“Yes, a truce. Perhaps even be friends with time, of course, that’s assuming you can refrain from insulting my friends.”

“I can handle that. If the truth be told I never took particular pleasure from insulting them, well, maybe the Weas... well, Weasley. It probably would be easier just to stop though, because, if I heard correctly, most of my material won’t really work anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the thing I’ve always made fun of Weasley for the most is that his family is so poor. If I heard correctly, that’s no longer the case.”

“Yes, that’s true,” Harry said. “My godfather, Sirius Black, included the entire Weasley family in his will; left Ron a million galleons.”

“Sirius Black was your godfather?”

“Yes, he was.”

“Damn, that must have hurt considering how he, well, you know.”

“Betrayed my parents you mean?” Harry asked as Draco just nodded.

“That’s just it though, he didn’t betray my parents.”

“What?”

“It’s true that when my parents learned they were marked for death by Voldemort,” Draco flinched at Harry’s mention of the name, “that they went into hiding under the Fidelius Charm. It’s also true that Sirius was to be their Secret Keeper, but at the last minute, they changed their minds and made one of my dad’s other friends, Peter Pettigrew, the secret keeper.”

“Isn’t he the one that Sirius went to Azkaban for killing?”

“Yes, he was, but Sirius didn’t kill him. Peter is an unregistered Animagus. Do you remember Ron’s pet rat?”

“Vaguely.”

“Well, that was Peter,” Harry said. “He lived with the Weasleys for twelve years in his Animagus form. Ron had absolutely no idea that it wasn’t a rat until third year. Hermione’s cat, Crookshanks, took an avid interest in Scabbers, but it wasn’t because he was a cat and Scabbers was a rat. Crookshanks is part kneazle and could detect that there was more then what met the eye about Scabbers, aka Peter.”

“So it was Peter that betrayed your parents?”

“Yes, it was Peter and Sirius spent twelve years in Azkaban for something he didn’t do. He died fighting Death Eaters at the Ministry last year. In fact he was dueling with your Aunt Bellatrix when he fell through the veil and she just laughed.”

“I never much cared for my Aunt Bella to be honest,” Draco said after a moment. “Growing up I always wondered how she was my mother’s sister. I mean I could see the family resemblance, because before she was sent to Azkaban, she was a great beauty like my mother. Of course, unlike my mother, it was only her physical appearance that was beautiful.”

The two boys sat in silence for several minutes, before Draco stood up and said, “Well, it’s getting late, so I suppose we should get back to the castle. I’ll escort you back to the entrance to Gryffindor tower so you don’t get in trouble, since it is after curfew now.”

Harry stood up and looked at Draco for several minutes and then nodded as they walked back to the castle in silence. When they reached the front doors, Harry said, “Draco, wait.”

“What?”

“Before we go in there’s something I want to do,” Harry said as he held out his hand to Draco.

Draco looked at the hand for a moment and then looked up at Harry for a moment and said, “I don’t understand.”

“I’m offering you my hand, Draco.”

“Your hand?”

“Yes, my hand in friendship,” Harry clarified.

“Oh, okay,” Draco said. “For a moment there I thought you meant something else.”

Harry wasn’t sure what else Draco could have read into the gesture or his comments, but then he didn’t have time to question it as Draco took his hand and shook it.

“Friends, then Draco?”

“Yes, Harry, friends.”

The two smiled at each other and they both felt very happy at that moment. The happiness was short-lived, however, as someone had seen the exchange.

“Get away from him, Malfoy!”

“Ron! I...”

“Its okay, Harry, you’re safe now. Whatever charm the bloody ferret put on you to make him think your friends, I’m sure Hermione can remove it.”

“You think I put Potter under a spell?”

“Of course you did you bloody ferret. Harry can’t possibly be in his right mind, because he would never willingly offer his friendship to the likes of you.”

“You’re wrong, Ron,” Harry said. “I’m not under a spell and I did just offer my friendship to Draco.”

“What did you call him?”

“I called him Draco.”

“He’s Malfoy!”

“I’m perfectly aware of what his surname is, Ron.”

“Don’t tell me that you’ve actually fallen for his act! I know he’s been acting all nice and such for the last week or so, but it’s all an act, Harry. Surely, you can see that. Malfoy is evil to the core and he’d surely kill you if given the chance just to please his master.”

“You are so lucky that you’re a prefect, Weasley. If you weren’t I’d be taking points from Gryffindor right now.”

“Shutup, Malfoy, nobody was talking to you.”

“Oh excuse me for not just standing here silently while you talk about me like I’m not even here.”

“Enough!” Harry shouted. “Ron, for the last time, I am not under a spell. Draco is not a Death Eater and he wouldn’t kill me. I have willingly offered my friendship to him and if you don’t like that, it’s just too bad.”

Ron just looked at Harry for a few seconds before storming into the castle. Draco and Harry just stood there on the steps for several minutes, until Draco said, “I can’t believe you defended me to Weasley.”

“He was being a jerk,” Harry said. “He’ll come around eventually, I think. We’ve had our share of fights over the years which prompted him not to talk to me, but he always comes around with time.”

“I don’t know if he will this time,” Draco said. “As far as he’s concerned you’ve just made friends with the enemy.”

“Well, if he doesn’t, then he wasn’t a true friend to begin with. True friends don’t dictate who their friends can and cannot be friends with. Anyway, I’m getting tired, so I think I’m going to head up for bed. Thanks for the offer to escort me up to the tower, but I can make it okay on my own. It’s really way too far out of your way.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Its okay, Draco; I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Okay, Harry, have a good night.”

“You too, Draco.”

* * *

To be continued...


	10. Chapter 10

Harry Potter and the Return of the Heirs  
By J.C. Vascardi

* * *  
Chapter Ten  
* * *

Draco’s Journal – September 25, 1996

I do so love being a Slytherin, because we Slytherins do tend to find things out before other houses, and oftentimes the information can be very juicy. For example, I’ve recently found out that shortly after his seventeenth birthday fifteen days ago, Delaney started to secretly seduce Professor Weasley. Yet, they are not a couple as far as I know, but as usual, the betting pools have already begun and I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before Blaise will have to pay me twenty galleons when Delaney is successful at seducing our professor.

Speaking of couples, I did find Justin Finch-Fletchley snogging after hours with Ryan in a broom cupboard again. This is the second time in as many weeks that I’ve come across them. They really should be more careful or one of these days I fear that they’ll be caught by one of the other prefects, or worse, a professor. Justin would be sure to lose his job as prefect, which would be a shame since he only just got the position this year after his classmate, Ernie MacMillan, decided to resign to concentrate more on his schoolwork.

My new friendship with Harry is going pretty well, all things considered. It’s common knowledge in the castle now that I’ve buried the hatchet with him. Some chose not to believe it of course. And still others, mainly my fellow Slytherins, seem to believe that I’m setting a trap for Harry. Pretend to befriend him and then deliver him to You-Know-Who. Of course, the Slytherins aren’t the only ones who think that because Weasley thinks that too. Harry told me last night that Weasley hasn’t said more than two words to him since the night Harry offered me his hand.

Harry Potter offered me his hand. I still can’t believe it to be honest. Of course, I haven’t told him, but I wish it had been offering me his hand in marriage instead of friendship. This, my dear journal, is something that you already know, but nobody else does as I’ve kept it well hidden: I’ve had a major crush on Harry since fourth year. A crush which I’m sure has developed into love; well, I’m not totally sure, because I don’t have much experience with romantic love, but I do know that my feelings for Harry are something which I’ve never felt for anyone else.

Of course, as I’ve already told you, I’ve fantasized about Harry on more than one occasion. Of course, I haven't told you everything; a few details about those fantasies I’ve left out, dear journal. To be honest, there have been times when I was having sex with Blaise that I found myself thinking about Harry and pretending that it was him rather than Blaise that I was doing the deed with. The fact that Blaise has the same raven-colored hair and sparkling green eyes as Harry has certainly helped my fantasies. Of course, Blaise is of Latino descent, so his skin is tanner than his, but I’ve found it easy to imagine that it’s just Harry with a very good suntan.

To say that I haven’t thought about telling Harry about my fantasies since we became friends would be a lie, as I have on many occasions. I do not however know if Harry is even gay, so I’m afraid to tell him to be honest. There’s also the fact that Harry was raised by Muggles, so I’m not sure how he even feels about gay people. As I learned on my first day at Cromwell Hall, however, Muggles are not as open-minded about same-sex pairings as wizards are. Charles did say that his late wife Katrina would have probably killed Matthew if she had found out that he was gay or dating Oliver.

Well, I’m getting tired, so I guess I’ll stop writing and get some sleep. I have Defense Against the Dark Arts in the morning and I should get some rest, since Severus’ classes are turning out to be very tiring. So much so, that last week, I was glad that I had a free period after lunch, because I came back to the dorm to sleep. Thankfully, Blaise did wake me up before I was late for Charms or I would have probably slept right through it.

* * *

Later the next evening, after dinner, Hermione and Ryan were once again in the restricted section pouring over various books, trying to find some shred of information that would tell them who the heirs were. In the last three weeks, they’d probably gone through about two or three dozen books apiece, but had to yet find anything. What neither of them knew, however, was that their persistence was about to strike pay dirt in a very big way.

“Hey, Hermione, look at all these books,” Ryan said as he ran his finger over a collection of leather-bound books.

“Yes, they’re wizard genealogy books,” Hermione said as she looked at them. “I don’t think they’ll help us at all though, because remember what Professor Dumbledore said at the feast. The genealogical books in the Hogwarts library don’t go back far enough to reveal any of the heirs.”

“Well, could it be possible that when he said that he was referring to the ones stored in the main library?” Ryan asked. “When he said that, students wouldn’t have been allowed to look at the restricted section genealogical texts, as it wouldn’t relate to any subjects.”

“Hmm, well, that is true,” Hermione said as she thought about it for a moment. “Of course, to be honest I’m not even sure why any genealogical text would be in the restricted section. I would think that information would be harmless and not need to be restricted, but you’re welcome to look at them if you want.”

“I think I will,” Ryan said as he grabbed one of the thick leather-bound books, which was labeled, ‘A Genealogy of Noteworthy 15th and 16th Century Witches and Wizards, Surnames A through F.’

Hermione just nodded as Ryan set the book down on a table and she went down one of the other aisles to look for a new book to research from.

“Oh my Gods,” Ryan muttered about half an hour later. “Hermione come look at this.”

“What is it, Ryan? Did you find something?”

“Yes, two things, first I figured out why these particular texts were in the restricted section.”

“Why?”

“Well, it seems the author decided to include information on why some of the people in the book were considered noteworthy. For example, there’s an entry in here for a Hilda Crawford who painted wizard portraits of an adult nature and there’s a few examples of her work.”

Hermione blushed as Ryan flipped the page and she came face to face with a picture of a wizard who looked to be in his mid-twenties wearing a set of Quidditch robes and a smile. That probably wouldn’t have been so bad, if it wasn’t for the fact that the robes were open and there was nothing under them, thus bearing the subject’s attributes for all to see.

“Yeah, that’s definitely something that belongs in the restricted section,” Hermione said after a moment. “I’m a little surprised a school would even have that, but then again, there are times throughout history when nudity was thought of as fine art and not something to be ashamed of. So, did you find anything about the founders?”

“I sure did,” Ryan answered as turned a few pages and then tapped the book in front of him. “Listen to this. Thornton Edmund Cromnvell, born 1470, died 1603; married 1497 to Fiona Cordelia Ravenclaw, born 1475, died 1621; one child, Edmund Charles Cromnvell, born 1500, died 1630.”

“Cromnvell, is that?”

“Yes, it’s one of the variations of my family surname,” Ryan confirmed. “I don’t know if my family ever used the Cromnvell variation, but it certainly is possible that they used it and someone changed it. Not to mention that with the exceptions of Thornton and Cordelia, all of those names are in some of the more recent branches of my family tree that I’ve seen: my great-grandfather, Edmund William, my grandfather, William Charles, my uncle, Charles Matthew, my cousin, Matthew William, and my mother Alexandra Fiona Cromwell.”

“Then that means that if you are descended from the Edmund Cromnvell that was born in 1500, that would make you Rowena Ravenclaw’s heir!”

“Yes,” Ryan muttered, shocked by this news. “Of course, that’s assuming that this Fiona Ravenclaw is descended from Rowena, but Ravenclaw isn’t a very common name, so I would think she probably is.”

“I think it would be way too much of a coincidence for there to be that many similar names, but there might be a way to figure out for sure, if you are or not,” Hermione said as she walked over to the neighboring table, picked up a large book, and brought it over to Ryan.

“How?” Ryan asked as he looked at the book that Hermione had just set in front of him.

“Well, this is a logbook of previous headmasters and I’ve found an entry made by Headmistress Dilys Derwent in 1750 about a rumor that the founders did not sleep in the staff wing. According to her notes, it’s thought that each founder had their own private suite of rooms, near the locations of their houses, which possibly even connected to the common rooms of their houses. It was thought that when the founders died the rooms simply vanished and only an heir would be able to relocate them. It seems Headmistress Derwent thought that because she was headmistress there wouldn’t be a single place in the castle she couldn’t access and dismissed it as nonsense after an extensive search of the areas around the four houses turned up nothing.”

“So, you think I should start exploring near Ravenclaw Tower and see if I can find some secret room that’s supposedly been missing for centuries? Hermione, that could take forever and we don’t even know if they ever did exist to begin with. Headmistress Derwent might have been right about it being nonsense. Not to mention the fact that there have been other heirs of the founders in the school since 1750, if the rooms existed surely they would have been found by now.”

“Not necessarily, Ryan. True, there have been heirs in the school since 1750, but if they didn’t know to look for such a room, it’s entirely possible that they would never have found them. Tom Riddle did find Slytherin’s Chamber of Secrets, but from what I’ve been reading, that’s been mentioned a lot throughout Hogwarts history. The only record I’ve found of these Founders’ Suites is this note from Headmistress Derwent.”

“Hmm, well, I suppose that does make sense. It is rather hard to find something when you don’t even know it’s there. I suppose the founders could even have laid some sort of magic into the rooms to make it so that the heir had to know it existed before they could find it. Headmistress Derwent knew of the possibility that the rooms existed, but never found anything because she wasn’t an heir.”

“Yes, that’s what I was thinking.”

“Well, the library is due to be closing soon,” Ryan said as he looked at his watch. “Let’s get these books cleaned up and then I’ll do some sneaking around tonight with my grandmother’s cloak and see if I can find anything near the tower.”

“Okay, well, just so you know, Justin and I are set to patrol that area this evening,” Hermione revealed. “So if you find anything, I’ll be in the area.”

“Well, if I find anything, I’ll let you know.”

* * *

By the time that Hermione returned to the Gryffindor common room, it was nearly empty. Harry, who was asleep in one of cushy red armchairs, was the only person left in the room. Hermione knew that Ron would be upstairs in his dorm, having retired early rather than spend time with Harry. Ever since last week, when Harry had announced his intention to be friends with Draco, Ron had barely spoken two words to him. 

Hermione, however, was much more open-minded about it. She trusted Harry, so when he decided to become friends with Draco, Hermione decided to try it herself. The fact that Professor Vector’s seating chart for Arithmancy class placed Hermione and Draco next to each other only helped her in realizing that Draco had definitely changed since his mother’s untimely death. He still called her Granger, although she much preferred that to what he used to call her, and while they weren’t quite the best of friends yet, Hermione at least thought that they were on their way to it. Draco had even asked Hermione for help on their Arithmancy homework, something which the old Draco would never have done.

Hermione quickly crossed the room and laid a hand on Harry’s shoulder and gently coaxed him to wake up, “Harry, its Hermione; wake up.”

When he did, Hermione set across from him, pulled out her wand and cast a silencing spell around the two of them so that no one who might come into the common room would be able to hear them talking.

“What’s up, Hermione? You and Ryan find anything tonight?”

“Yes, Harry, we did. It’s very possible that we’ve hit the jackpot.”

“Wow. Tell me more.”

“To make a long story short, we think that Ryan might be Rowena Ravenclaw’s heir.”

“That’d be cool. Now, you said you think, does that mean you’re not sure?”

“Well, not totally, no. However, Ryan is going to do some exploring tonight and see if maybe he can find the final proof.”

“What do you mean final proof?”

“In addition to finding the info that made us think Ryan might be Rowena’s heir, we also found a note about a rumor that the founders had their own suites of rooms outside of the staff wing. The note said that it was believed that the founders’ quarters might actually be near their houses.”

“Wouldn’t they have been found by now then?”

“That’s what Ryan thought too. We finally agreed though that it’s possible that only an heir could find their ancestor’s quarters and that the heir would have to know the room existed before they could find them. From what I saw, these rooms weren’t mentioned nearly as much as the Chamber of Secrets, so it’s entirely possible that Tom Riddle heard of the chamber, but never of Slytherin’s quarters, which is why he never found them.”

“That makes sense.”

“Yeah, well, I’d better get going. I’m set to patrol the halls near Ravenclaw Tower with Justin tonight. I’ll see you in the morning, Harry.”

Harry nodded and watched as Hermione left. Once she was gone, Harry quietly snuck upstairs to his dorm, went over to his trunk, grabbed his cloak and map, and left Gryffindor Tower.

‘Maybe Ryan could use some help,’ Harry thought as he donned his cloak, activated the map and headed for Ravenclaw territory.

* * *

Two hours later, Ryan snuck as quietly as possible down the stairs from the sixth-year boy’s dormitory and into the Ravenclaw common room. The only light in the thankfully empty room emanated from the dying fire. Ryan threw his grandmother’s old cloak over his shoulders, pulled the hood over his head, and made his way over to the exit.

As he exited the tower, he saw Hermione and Justin patrolling the hallway, just as Hermione had said they would be. Ryan simply couldn’t help himself, snuck up behind Justin, and wrapped his arms around his waist. In doing so, the hood of his cloak was dislodged enough for Hermione to see Ryan’s face and she just grinned as he leaned down and planted a kiss on Justin’s neck. Justin had been a bit startled, but now realizing that it was his boyfriend, he just smiled and craned his neck a bit to give Ryan better access.

Ryan continued to suck and kiss Justin’s neck for a couple of minutes, before they heard a sharp grunt. Hermione looked towards the direction of the sound and Harry revealed his face just enough to mouth the word, “Filch,” before disappearing back under his cloak. Ryan quickly released Justin and made sure he was completely covered by his cloak.

Seconds later, Argus Filch came around the corner and a smile spread across his face when he saw two students out of bed.

“Well, well, well, two students out of bed after hours. Oh dear, we are in trouble.”

“Mr. Filch,” Hermione said as he neared, “you can’t do anything to Justin and me for being out of bed.”

“Oh no? That’s what you think.”

“We’re prefects,” Justin said as he adjusted his robes so that his prefect badge was more clearly visible.

“What would a pair of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff prefects be doing at this time of night in the Ravenclaw hallway is what I’d like to know.”

“Performing our duties,” Hermione answered. “Justin and I are only performing our scheduled rounds, Mr. Filch. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have to get back to work.”

With that, Hermione and Justin walked calmly down the hall and turned the corner that Filch had just come from. Filch stood there for a few minutes, clenching his fists, mumbling about students being out of bed and not being able to do anything about it, such as drag them down to the torture chamber and punish them, before he continued to stalk down the hallway. Once Harry was sure he was gone, he walked over to where the map showed Ryan standing and said, “Its okay, he’s gone.”

“How’d you know he was coming?” Ryan whispered as pulled his hood back just enough to reveal his face.

“This,” Harry said as he held out the Marauder’s Map to Ryan to look at. “It’s a magic map of the castle, shows every floor and every room well except for the Room of Requirement. It also shows were everyone in the school is.”

“Wow, where did you get it?”

“From the Weasley twins in my third year,” Harry answered. “My dad and his friends actually made it when they were students.”

“Cool.”

“Hermione told me what you’d be up to tonight, so I figured you might need some help.”

“Thanks, Harry,” Ryan said with a smile. “If Hermione is right you won’t be able to actually search for the room, as you aren’t an heir, but if you could just watch that map and warn me if anyone is coming, I’d appreciate it.”

“Sure thing, Ry,” Harry said with a smile.

Starting near the entrance to Ravenclaw Tower, Ryan started to run his hand over the stone walls; working on the assumption that if the room really did exist that it would be on the same side of the hallway as the entrance to the tower. About an hour later, Ryan had found nothing and was about to give up when he thought he felt something under his hand. Stopping to examine the wall a bit closer, it was then that he noticed the initials R.F.R. appear out of nowhere carved into the wall.

‘Could that stand for Rowena Fiona Ravenclaw?’ Ryan thought and almost immediately the three letters started to glow and soon the whole brick was glowing. Ryan reached up and touched the glowing brick and looked on with wonder as a single glowing line extended upward from the glowing ‘F’. Ryan soon realized that the glowing line was tracing the shape of a door and as soon as it finished, Ryan heard the sound of stone moving against stone as the wall swung open.

Ryan smiled at Harry, who just grinned back, and said, “Well, follow me Harry.”

A scent of dampness and disuse hit Ryan almost immediately as he stepped through the threshold. The door soon closed and Harry and Ryan removed their cloaks, pulled out their wands, and mumbled, “Lumos!” From the points of light on their wands, they saw that they were in a room that had obviously not been used in many years. Sheets were draped over what looked to be various pieces of furniture and almost everywhere they looked, there was a thick layer of dust and a multitude of cobwebs.

“Ron certainly wouldn’t like this place much, especially if the owners of those webs are still around.”

“Afraid of spiders is he?”

“Deathly afraid,” Harry answered.

“So, someone has finally found me I see.”

“Who said that?” Ryan asked, alarmed.

“Whose there?” Harry asked, equally alarmed.

“Behind you, my boys,” the voice, a female, said. “No need to be alarmed. I couldn’t harm you even if I wanted to.”

Turning around and lifting their wands up, Ryan and Harry soon saw the source of the voice. A large, life-size portrait of a woman wearing a flowing black cloak with a bronze clasp over a fancy blue silk gown, which looked to be from about the ninth century, was hanging above the fireplace. The woman was quite beautiful to behold, with long brown hair and piercing blue eyes.

“Who are you?” Ryan asked.

“You mean you haven’t figured that out yet?” the woman asked. “Why, I am Rowena Fiona Ravenclaw, founder of Ravenclaw House, and one of the four founders of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You two don’t appear to be related, so I shall assume that only one of you is my heir.”

“Your heir?” Ryan asked.

“Yes, my heir; I assure you that were one of you not my heir you never would have been able to get into this room. The other founders and I all charmed our quarters so that we would be the only ones who could access them. When we died, the rooms disappeared and were charmed so that only our heirs would be able to find them. Now that you have, I do hope that you will consider cleaning up, as this room could certainly use it. Now, I assume that you two have names?”

“My name is Ryan Cole Cromwell, ma’am.”

“I’m Harry James Potter, ma’am.”

“Please, call me Rowena. Now, we must figure out which one of you is my heir.”

“I think that would be me, Rowena,” Ryan answered. “My friend Hermione and I were searching through some books in the library and found a book that said one of my ancestors married a Fiona Ravenclaw in 1497.”

“Tell me, what year is it? It’s really rather hard to keep track of time when you’re a portrait hanging on the wall in a forgotten room with all the drapes closed for... well, I don’t know how long.”

“It’s the year 1996,” Harry revealed.

“1996 you say? Hmm, well, that means that I’ve been dead for 1129 years. That really is quite a long time to be alone.”

“Surely you haven’t been totally alone? I mean, you’re a portrait, can’t you visit other portraits?”

“Well, Ryan, now I can. You see until you found this room, the magic that hid it from view also prevented me from visiting any other portraits and other portraits from visiting me. Of course, after all the time that’s passed, I assume the only portraits left in this castle that would even know I’m here are Godric, Helga and Salazar’s portraits. Tell me, have their quarters been found?”

“No, they haven’t been. According to the Sorting Hat all four of the founders do have an heir at the school now, but as far as we know, Ryan is now the only one who knows that he is an heir.”

“Hmm, well, we’ll have to remedy that. You see those doors across the room there? Yes, the large oak doors; go through them.”

As Ryan stepped towards the doors, he couldn’t help but sneeze from all the dust and turning back to Rowena’s portrait, he said, “In a moment. I think I’ll just cast those cleaning charms you mentioned first. All this dust is making me sick.”

“Yes, I can see how it would. I’m rather glad to be a portrait since the dust doesn’t affect me as such. Hmm, you will have to extinguish your wand light to cast those charms, but if you light a fire in the hearth, that should provide a nice amount of light until the candles are found. Just please be careful and make sure your wand is pointed at the fire grate and not me before you cast the charm.”

Ryan nodded and pointed his wand directly at the fire grate, before he mumbled, “Nox,” followed shortly there after by “Incendio!” The flames in the massive fireplace did indeed provide a nice amount of light; more light then Ryan would have even thought possible in fact.

Harry and Ryan then set to work casting cleaning charms and vanishing the dust and cobwebs. After about twenty minutes, the room looked much better then it had. Rowena’s portrait smiled at Ryan and said, “Much better. Now, did you want to clean up the other rooms or did you want to see about finding out the identities of the other heirs?”

“Would it be possible for me to summon one of the house-elves into the room to take care of the rest of the cleaning?”

“Yes, Ryan, it would be. The house-elves haven’t been in here to clean while the room was hidden, but now they should be able to find it if you or your friend called.”

“Okay, good,” Ryan said as he gestured to Harry, “Know any of the house-elves by name?”

“One,” Harry said, before calling out, “Dobby!”

A loud pop a moment later signaled Dobby’s arrival and as he looked around, he looked rather confused. Looking over at Ryan and Harry he asked, “Harry Potter sir, were is we?”

“The private living quarters of Rowena Ravenclaw, Dobby,” Harry answered. “Ryan and I only just found them after many years of being hidden.”

“Rowena Ravenclaw?” Dobby asked with wide-eyes.

“Yes, Dobby, is it? Hello, I’m Rowena Ravenclaw and Ryan is my however many times great-grandson.”

Dobby had not noticed the portrait above the fireplace and looked scared for a moment before Ryan pointed at the portrait. Dobby turned toward the fireplace and looked up at the portrait for a moment before dropping to his knees and bowing. After a moment, he stood and said, “It an honor to meet you, Mistress Ravenclaw.”

“And you, Dobby,” Rowena said with a smile. “Now, Dobby, if you could be so kind, Ryan and Harry have taken care of cleaning my common room here, but the other rooms could really use a good cleaning.”

“Of course, Mistress Ravenclaw,” Dobby said with a bow of his head.

“Oh and Dobby?” Ryan said before Dobby left, “For the moment at least, I’d prefer that nobody knew about my being the heir or that these rooms exist. So, please refrain from telling any of the professors and students. You can tell the other house-elves if you need help cleaning, but that’s it. Just make sure to tell them about my wish that nobody know for now.”

“Yes, Master Ryan,” Dobby said before popping out.

“Now, how do we find out who the other heirs are?”

“Those large oak doors over there, Harry,” Rowena said as she pointed at them. “Enter the room behind them and I’ll move to my portrait in there and give you more instructions.”

Harry and Ryan nodded and then went over to the massive oak doors that Rowena pointed at and opened them. Walking inside, they found themselves in a cavernous room filled with bookshelves. Walking over to the fireplace, Ryan quickly lit the fire to provide more light and then looked up at Rowena’s portrait. She smiled and said, “Welcome Ryan, Harry, to my private library.”

* * *

To be continued...


	11. Chapter 11

Harry Potter and the Return of the Heirs  
By J.C. Vascardi

* * *  
Chapter Eleven  
* * *

“Now, how do we find out who the other heirs are?”

“Those large oak doors over there, Harry,” Rowena said as she pointed at them. “Enter the room behind them and I’ll move to my portrait in there and give you more instructions.”

Harry and Ryan nodded and then went over to the massive oak doors that Rowena pointed at and opened them. Walking inside, they found themselves in a cavernous room filled with bookshelves. Walking over to the fireplace, Ryan quickly lit the fire to provide more light and then looked up at Rowena’s portrait. She smiled and said, “Welcome Ryan, Harry, to my private library.”

“Wow,” Ryan and Harry said in unison as they looked around at the massive collection of books.

“There must be more books here then in the Hogwarts library and restricted section combined.”

“Right you are, Harry,” Rowena confirmed. “I charmed this library so that it would magically obtain copies of every single written work ever produced. This library contains books on every subject under the sun.   
There are books here written by Merlin himself, as well as Morgana Le Fey, and there are also copies of all the scrolls from the Great Library at Alexandria.”

“Wow,” Ryan muttered. “A collection of rare books this size would be worth a fortune. I remember Matt saying that if we combined our vaults with Oliver’s, Draco would still have more money, but all these books would be worth even more than Matt’s, Oliver’s, Draco’s and my vaults combined.”

“That is probably true,” Rowena stated. “Of course, if there was one thing that I learned in life, it was that knowledge can be vastly more valuable than all the galleons in the world. Who are the other people you mentioned, Ryan?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I was referring to my cousin, Matthew Cromwell, his boyfriend, Oliver Wood, and my second cousin, Draco Malfoy.”

Rowena nodded and asked, “I should very much like to meet them, Ryan; especially this Matthew and his boyfriend Oliver. Am I correct in assuming that Draco is not related to me?”

“I don’t think he is, although I can’t be totally sure as I haven’t seen his complete family tree. He’s my late grandmother, Lucinda Malfoy Cromwell’s grandnephew.”

“Well, even if he isn’t related to me directly, I’d still like to meet him. I’ve been so lonely over the last millennium that I very much relish the thought of talking to people again.”

“Would they even be able to get into your quarters? You did say that they were charmed so that only you and your heirs could access them.”

“You’re right, Harry, I did say that,” Rowena said with a patient smile. “Am I correct in assuming that you are not in my house?”

“Yes, I’m in Gryffindor, why?”

“Well, Harry, no offense, but I do believe a member of my house would have already figured out that anyone who is invited into my quarters by my heir can access them.”

“Ryan didn’t invite me though.”

“Oh, I assure you, he must have, Harry. If he hadn’t, a magical barrier would have prevented you from stepping even one foot into my quarters. Ryan did you say anything to Harry before you entered?”

Thinking back for a moment, Ryan said, “Yes, I said ‘Well, follow me, Harry.’”

“Then that is why you have access to this room, Harry. Ryan told you to follow him, which the room’s magic took as an invitation. Only Ryan can open the door into this room, however, as an invited guest, the room will allow you to enter from now on without a word from Ryan, unless of course he asks you to leave and not return at which point the room’s magic would evict you and not allow you to enter again until invited.”

Harry nodded his understanding, as Ryan asked, “You said I’m the only one who can open the door? Would my Cousin Matthew or my Uncle Charles be able to open it? They’re both Cromwells, both descended from you.”

“No, even though they are technically my heirs, since it was you who found the room the magic will now only recognize you as my heir. If Matthew or Charles had found the room before you, then one of them would be recognized as my heir. Of course, as my heir, you can instruct the room to allow other people to open the door, if you so desire.”

“Well, for now I think I’ll keep it so that only I can open the door.”

“You mean you’re not going to give Justin permission?”

“Justin?” Rowena asked, as she raised an eyebrow, clearly curious.

“Harry is referring to Justin Finch-Fletchley, my boyfriend.”

“Ah, how nice; you must allow me to meet him as well. Would it be possible for you to bring them all here for me to meet?”

“It shouldn’t be too hard,” Ryan said. “Matt and Oliver are the Music and Art professors, respectively, and the others are all students here at Hogwarts. I’m not sure though about getting my uncle to come for a visit, because being an Auror keeps him very busy considering the current state of things.”

“What do you mean by ‘current state of things’?” Rowena asked as she again raised her eyebrow.

“The Wizarding World is at war and it isn’t going well.”

“War? My, my, Ryan, how unpleasant,” Rowena said. “Then, we must figure out who the heirs are immediately so that the other quarters can be found. Backed up by the knowledge of all four founders, I’m sure the heirs will be able to help turn the tide in this war. Who is the enemy, if I may ask?”

“A former Hogwarts student actually,” Harry said. “Tom Marvolo Riddle, now known as Lord Voldemort; he’s also Salazar Slytherin’s heir. He went to school here over fifty years ago and he did find Slytherin’s Chamber of Secrets, but as far as we know, he didn’t find Slytherin’s quarters.”

“Hmm, so, Salazar did build a secret chamber, did he? The other founders and I suspected that he might have, but we could never prove it. I’m sure he probably would have made his gift for Parseltongue necessary to access the chamber and there are only two known Wizard lines that possess the Parseltongue ability, namely the male heirs of Salazar Slytherin and the female heirs of Morgana Le Fey; and the last of the Le Fey line died childless the year before I did.”

“So, how do we go about finding out the identities of the heirs?”

“Simply ask for the information, Ryan.”

“Ask? Ask who?”

“Not who, Ryan, what. As you can see, I have a very extensive collection of books in my library and while I am highly intelligent, even I would have been unable to remember where each and every book was stored. So, I devised a spell which I cast upon this room. All you need to do is ask the library for information on the heirs of the founders and it will search through my collection, find the books, place them on the table in the center of the room, and even open them to the correct page.”

“Wow, that’s an impressive bit of magic,” Harry said.

“Yes, isn’t it though? It took me almost thirty years to perfect it.”

“Library, I require information on the living heirs of the four founders of Hogwarts.”

As soon as the words left Ryan’s mouth, a small globe of blue light appeared above the center table and zoomed off towards the nearest bookshelf. Ryan and Harry watched in awe as the small globe darted from bookshelf to bookshelf until finally it found a large book bound in what looked like black dragon hide. The small globe of light flew back to the center table as the book floated after it, finally coming to rest on the table. The small globe of light then plunged itself into the book, causing the cover to open and the pages to start turning of their own accord, until finally it stopped.

Ryan and Harry walked over to the book and looked down; unfortunately, they could only just barely see the extremely faint outline of writing on the pages. Ryan looked up at Rowena’s portrait and said, “The writing has faded, presumably with age, and I can’t read a word it says.”

“Oh dear, I should have remembered,” Rowena said. “When I died I didn’t know how long it would be until my heir would find my quarters, but I never expected it to take over a millennium. So, I only cast a preservation charm powerful enough to preserve the books for 500 years.”

“So, you mean all of the information in these books is now unreadable and useless?”

“No, Harry, it can be retrieved. The spell is a rather complicated one and it’ll take about a week to reverse every hundred year’s worth of damage. So, I died in the year 867 and per my spell, the books stayed in perfect condition until 1367. So, if my calculations are correct, once the restoration charm is cast, the damage to my collection will be completely reversed in a little over six weeks from now.”

“So that means we’ll have to wait until November,” Harry said. “Oh well, guess it would be too much to ask to find out everything at once.”

“Well, it might be possible to retrieve clues before then,” Rowena said. “You asked for information on the living heirs of the founders and if I’m not mistaken, the library provided you with a book entitled ‘The Tome of the Founders’. Godric, Helga, Salazar, and I wrote the book and bestowed it with a powerful charm that would automatically add the names of each of our heirs whenever one was born and cross the name out when they died. The book also keeps track of each heir's age and automatically updates their age each time they celebrate a birthday.

“If I remember correctly, the book will write each heir’s name in a color corresponding to the founder from whom they are descended. I believe Godric’s heirs would be written in gold ink, Salazar’s in silver ink, Helga’s in black ink, and mine in blue ink. As the restoration charm does its work, it’s possible that the names will become clearer, though you may only be able to read first names until the full restoration period has passed.”

“Is it possible to speed up the process by casting the restoration charm on just this book?” Ryan asked as he motioned towards the book that Rowena had identified as ‘The Tome of the Founders’.

“No, it isn’t. The restoration spell is so powerful that it will start to restore all of the books in the library at the same time. If you tried to direct the spell at a single book, it would likely destroy it because the book would be incapable of handling such a powerful saturation of magic.”

“Okay, well, we obviously don’t want to destroy it, so I guess we’ll just have to wait until November.”

“Agreed,” Ryan said as he nodded at Harry. “So, Rowena what is the incantation?”

“If I may ask, Ryan, what year are you in?”

“I’m a sixth year.”

“Hmm, I’m not sure if you’ll be able to cast it, to be honest. The incantation is simple, but in order for it to work, it would require a very large output of magical energy, which I cannot be sure that a sixteen-year-old wizard would possess, even though you my heir.”

“Well, could I try at least? Or would that be too draining?”

“Yes Ryan, I fear that it would be too draining. I think in order to cast the spell you should have at least four wizards, preferably more because of your age.”

“Hmm, well, I think we should get the spell started as soon as possible, so, Harry could you check your map? See if any of our friends are around?”

“Sure,” Harry said as he took out his wand and tapped the parchment. “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

“What on Earth is that thing?” Rowena asked.

“It’s called the Marauder’s Map,” Harry explained. “It’s a complete map of the school and it shows where every single person is and what they’re doing every second of every day. My dad, my godfather, and two of their friends made it while they were in school.”

“Impressive,” Rowena commented. “I’d very much like to meet them.”

“Unfortunately, you can’t,” Harry said. “Well, at least not all of them anyway; my dad and my godfather are dead. Their friend Remus Lupin is still alive, but he was unfortunately bitten by a werewolf as a child and the moon will be full tomorrow night.”

“Ah, okay. Now, you said two friends, what about the other one?”

“Peter Pettigrew,” Harry spat. “He’s the reason my parents are dead. Shortly after I was born, Voldemort marked them for death, so they went into hiding under the Fidelius charm. Peter was their Secret Keeper and he betrayed them to Voldemort.”

“Oh dear,” Rowena said. “You have my condolences.”

“Thanks,” Harry said as he looked at the map. “We’re in luck. It looks like Justin and Hermione are still on their prefect rounds in the hallway outside Ravenclaw Tower and Draco and Susan Bones are two hallways over.”

“Does it make a difference that Justin and Hermione are Muggle-born?”

“No, it doesn’t,” Rowena answered. “Despite what some people might like to believe, Muggle-borns are just as magically capable as a pureblood. It just sometimes takes a little longer and more practice for their powers to reach full capacity. There is also a potion to help them reach their full potential; but I doubt you’ve ever heard of it because most of its ingredients are extremely rare. Some people also think of it as a Dark Magic potion, because it requires a drop of blood from a pureblood witch or wizard.”

“Okay, well, Ryan, you go get Justin and Hermione,” Harry said. “They’re right outside the entrance to Ravenclaw Tower and there’s no sign of any professors. Filch is in the dungeons and Mrs. Norris is in the library. I’ll go get Draco and Susan. I’m friends with Draco and Susan, so hopefully I can convince them not to take points from me.”

* * *

Harry snuck as quietly as possible to where Draco and Susan were patrolling. Finding them and noting that there was nobody else in the vicinity, he decided to make himself known.

“Mischief managed,” Harry whispered and tucked the map into his cloak pocket before removing his cloak and saying, “Hello Draco, Susan.”

“Harry?” Draco asked. “What are you doing this far from Gryffindor Tower after curfew?”

“Harry, you shouldn’t be here,” Susan said. Even though she knew she should take points, she still felt a certain loyalty to Harry as the former head of the DA.

“I wouldn’t have even come to you, but Ryan and I need your help.”

“What’s wrong?” Draco asked, suddenly concerned for his cousin.

“Nothing, but we do need your help,” Harry said. “I’ll tell you this much for now. It’s about the heirs.”

“What about the heirs?” Susan asked.

“We know who one of them is,” Harry asked. “Come with me and you’ll know too.”

Susan looked at Draco for a moment and then said, “Alright, fine. You’d better not be leading us on a wild goose chase though, Harry.”

Harry nodded and said, “I’m not taking you on a wild goose chase, I swear. Now follow me, we’re going to the Ravenclaw hallway.”

A few moments later, Harry arrived at the entrance to Rowena’s private quarters and found Ryan standing there waiting with Justin and Hermione. Smiling at Draco and Susan, Ryan said, “Welcome to Rowena Ravenclaw’s private quarters.”

As he said that, Ryan tapped the brick and once again it began to glow and the line traced a door which then opened. Ryan smiled at the looks on Draco, Susan, and Justin’s faces and said, “As Rowena’s heir, I invite you all to enter. Follow me.”

The four prefects did as Ryan asked and followed Harry and him through the door into Rowena’s quarters, as the door closed behind them. Motioning towards the fireplace, Ryan said, “May I introduce, my however many times great-grandmother, Rowena Ravenclaw.”

“Hello everyone,” Rowena said and everyone whirled around to look up at Rowena’s portrait.

“Oh my Gods,” Susan said. “You weren’t lying, Harry.”

“Of course not, I’m a Gryffindor.”

“Gryffindors are known for bravery not necessarily telling the truth,” Justin pointed out.

“So says the Hufflepuff,” Harry shot back with a smile.

“If you could all please stop bickering,” Rowena said with a bemused smile on her face. She waited for everyone to give her attention again, before continuing, “If you’d all proceed through the large oak doors, I’ll tell you why Ryan and Harry have brought you here.”

Once everyone was in the library, Rowena said, “Welcome to my private library. The book on the center table is the key to discovering the identities of the other three heirs. Now, unfortunately time has ravaged my collection, making the books unreadable. I died in 867 and I never expected it would take over a millennium for my heir to find my quarters and renew the preservation charms, so I only cast a charm powerful enough to last 500 years. Fortunately, there is a spell which can reverse the ravages of the last 629 years, but it is an extremely powerful spell that requires a large output of energy, and I believe it would be too much for Ryan alone to expel without killing him.”

“So how are we supposed to help?” Justin asked.

“Quite simply you will all cast the spell together, thus each expelling a smaller amount of energy for the spell. Between the six of you, there should be enough power outlaid that you can safely cast the spell. You all may feel a little tired afterward, but it’s nothing a good night’s rest won’t remedy.”

“Wizards can share their power to cast a spell?” Justin asked.

“Yes, Justin,” Rowena answered, “it’s known as Simultaneous Casting, however, it usually isn’t taught until the last semester of seventh year Charms. I can teach you how to do it now though and I assure you that I am qualified, because not only am I one of this school’s founders and one of the most powerful witches of my age, I was also this school’s first Charms professor, so I know what I’m talking about.”

Everyone just nodded and waited for Rowena to continue.

“Take out your wands, please.”

Once everyone had their wands out, Rowena continued her instructions, “Now, please stand in a circle and with your free hands I want you to hold the free hand of the person standing next to you. Good, now, raise your wands above your heads and touch the tips of them together.”

Rowena smiled as the six students did as she instructed and she then said, “Okay, now, for the incantation. I should warn you that the results will not be immediate. It will take a little over six weeks to reverse all the damage to my collection, but if the spell is cast correctly, you will see an arc of blue light emerge from your wand tips which will spread around the room and cause all the books to glow for a few seconds.

“Now, you must all speak the incantation in unison, so I’m going to ask you to practice with a much simpler spell first, before we move on. Now, why don’t you try the Flower Conjuring spell, Orchideous?”

“Orchideous!” the six students said, but nothing happened.

“Okay, that wasn’t in unison,” Rowena said. “You all must say the incantation at the same time or it won’t work.”

“Orchideous!” the six students said again, this time in unison, causing a huge bouquet of flowers to appear out of their wands.

“Okay, that was very good,” Rowena said. “Now, for the incantation for the Mass-Book Restoration charm, please pay careful attention to my pronunciation: Redintegro Bibliotheca.”

“Redintegro Bibliotheca!” the six students said once again in unison and they could all feel a much larger amount of their power going into the spell as the blue arc that Rowena mentioned formed above their heads and all the books in the library suddenly glowed bright blue for a few seconds.

“Excellent,” Rowena said. “Now, I suggest you all get some sleep. I think it would be best if you all stayed here for tonight. Dobby!”

Dobby popped in and bowing before Rowena’s portrait asked, “Yes, Mistress Ravenclaw?”

“Have the bedrooms been cleaned yet?”

“Yes, Mistress Ravenclaw, other house-elves and I finished cleaning; all the rooms now done.”

“Good, then if you could be so kind, please show Ryan and his guests to the bedrooms. Please give Ryan the large room at the end of the hall, as he is now master of these quarters and it is only fitting that he has the master bedroom.”

Dobby bowed to Rowena again before walking over to the doors and motioning for the six students to follow him.

* * *

To be continued...


	12. Chapter 12

Harry Potter and the Return of the Heirs  
By J.C. Vascardi

* * *  
Chapter Twelve  
* * *

The next morning Ryan awoke in a huge bedroom and for a moment he thought he was back at Cromwell Hall, until he realized that the décor of this room was different than his room there, not to mention the fact that this room was probably twice the size. Blinking a few times and shaking his head to clear the cobwebs of sleep, he soon remembered that he was still at Hogwarts and sitting in the same bed that his ancestor, Rowena Ravenclaw, had slept in over a millennium earlier.

“So it wasn’t a dream,” Ryan said softly. “I really am Ravenclaw’s heir.”

“Yes, you are,” a voice next to him said and Ryan jumped a bit when he felt a pair of arms wrapping around him.

Ryan relaxed when he realized it was Justin, “Oh, sorry, Justin, but I’m not used to waking up next to someone. You startled me.”

“I’m sorry,” Justin said as he moved in for a kiss, but Ryan just scrunched up his nose and moved away.

“Oh, Justin, no offense, but you really need a breath freshening charm.”

“Are you saying I have morning breath?”

“Yes,” Ryan said as he reached over to the nightstand, grabbed his wand, pointed it at Justin’s mouth and muttered something under his breath. “Ah, much better, now where were we?”

Justin smiled as the two of them leaned in and kissed each other passionately. The kiss continued for several minutes and when it finally did break, Ryan said, “You know, I could really get used to this.”

“What?”

“Waking up next to you,” Ryan answered with a smile as he kissed the tip of Justin’s nose, which made him giggle.

“Yes, so could I,” Justin said. “You think we can just move in here?”

“Well, I don’t think that’ll work,” Ryan replied. “I mean, I think it would generate way too many questions if we both suddenly move out of our dormitories. I don’t think that’s something that we’d be able to hide for very long.”

“Yeah, you do have a point,” Justin conceded. “I suppose it’s possible that our absence may have already been noticed by our dorm mates.”

“Yeah, it is, um,” Ryan paused and said, “Tempus! 7:30 a.m.”

A popping noise startled both Justin and Ryan as they looked over and noticed Dobby standing at the foot of the bed.

“Um, excuse me, Masters Ryan and Justin, but breakfast is served in the dining room.”

“Dining room?”

“Yes, Master Ryan, Mistress Ravenclaw’s private dining room,” Dobby said. “It’s through curtained arch off common room.”

“Ah, okay, Dobby, we’ll be there shortly,” Ryan commented.

“Oh, um, Dobby, could you please find out if our absence from our houses has been noticed?”

“Of course, Master Justin,” Dobby answered as he bowed and popped out.

Ryan pulled Justin into another kiss for a minute or so, before they got out of bed and got dressed. Ryan was happy to notice that they had both been wearing their underwear, so that meant that they hadn’t slept together. Considering that he couldn’t remember doing it, he would have been very upset if he’d found out that he had in fact slept with Justin last night and couldn’t remember his first time with Justin or anyone for that matter.

As if he could read what was on his mind, Justin said, “No, Ryan, we just shared the bed last night.”

“Oh good,” Ryan said with a grin. “I’d hate to think that my boyfriend was so bad in bed that I forget about it by the next morning.”

“I resent that remark,” Justin said indignantly.

“I’m sorry, Justin,” Ryan apologized. “I’m sure you’re great, of course, I don’t know that. I do want to get to know you a bit better though, before we, well, you know.”

“Yes, I know,” Justin said as he smiled at Ryan and wrapped an arm around his waist. “I agree with you. We’ve only been a couple for like three weeks. We should get to know each other better before we go any further than snogging.”

“Well, if your sexual prowess is even half as good as your skill with your tongue, then I know I will love every second when we do take our relationship to the next level.”

Justin blushed and Ryan grinned as he leaned over and nibbled Justin’s ear, “I love it when you blush.”

Justin smiled at Ryan, before they left the room, hand in hand. Arriving in the dining room, Justin and Ryan saw that Hermione, Draco, Harry, and Susan were already seated at the table eating. The chair, or more accurately, the throne at the head of the table was vacant, along with one seat to the left of it. Sitting down at the head of the table, Ryan filled his plate and then asked, “So did everyone sleep well?”

“Yes, very well,” Harry answered, as Draco and Susan nodded in agreement.

“I can’t believe that I actually slept in Rowena Ravenclaw’s quarters.”

“Well, Hermione think how I feel,” Ryan said. “I actually slept in Rowena’s bed or at least the bed that I assume she slept in.”

“You did indeed, Ryan,” Rowena said as she appeared in the blank portrait over the fireplace. “So, did you and Justin find my bed comfortable?”

“Justin?” Susan asked as she looked at her housemate.

Justin looked a bit like a deer caught in the headlights for a moment, but he quickly recovered enough to say, “Well, Susan, you know I’m gay. What you didn’t know was that I’ve been dating Ryan for the last three weeks.”

“Oh, well, you make a very cute couple,” Susan said. “I’m happy for you, but, Ryan, you should know that if you ever hurt Justin in any way, the other sixth-year Hufflepuffs and I will kill you.”

Justin smiled at the look on Ryan’s face and explained, “My housemates have all been extremely protective of me since I was petrified by a basilisk in second year.”

“Petrified? Basilisk?” Rowena asked, clearly shocked and confused. “Where in Merlin’s name did a twelve-year-old wizard come across a basilisk?”

“In one of the hallways here at Hogwarts,” Justin responded. “I was lucky enough to see it through Nearly Headless Nick though, so I didn’t die.”

Seeing Rowena’s look of confusion, Harry explained, “Nearly Headless Nick is the Gryffindor house ghost. As for why a basilisk was loose in the school, Lucius Malfoy had slipped my friend Ron’s sister, Ginny Weasley, a diary that Voldemort kept when he was sixteen and the memory of him tricked her into opening the Chamber of Secrets, at which point he released the basilisk and three students and the caretaker’s cat were all petrified.”

“Why in Merlin’s name would Salazar keep a basilisk in the school?” Rowena asked, as her brow furrowed in confusion.

“To purge the school of all who in his view were unworthy of studying magic,” Hermione said. “In other words, Muggle-borns like Justin and me.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Rowena said immediately.

“Why?” Harry said. “It’s the truth.”

“I have no doubt that you all believe it to be true,” Rowena said, “but don’t forget that I knew Salazar. While it’s true that I didn’t know he’d bred a basilisk, I do know that he didn’t do it to purge the school of Muggle-born students. As I told Harry and Ryan last night, there is no difference whatsoever between a pureblood wizard and a Muggle-born wizard. Muggle-borns just have to work harder and practice more to reach their full potential, but they are just as magically qualified as a pureblood. Salazar routinely brewed the potion, which he invented I might add, which was used to help Muggle-borns reach their full power potential faster. Where on Earth did you all get the impression that Salazar hated Muggle-borns?”

“From the Sorting Hat,” Harry answered. “It’s mentioned several times in it’s songs that Salazar thought Hogwarts should only accept purebloods and that when the other founders refused to see his way he got mad and left the school.”

“Well, that explains it then,” Rowena answered, as a look of realization washed over her face. “Salazar remained at this school until the day he died. I know this because I was the second to last founder to die, outlived only by Godric. Salazar died three years and Helga about six months before I did. I assume you all know that the Sorting Hat originally belonged to Godric?”

Everyone nodded, except for Ryan since this was his first year at Hogwarts and he honestly didn't know that the Sorting Hat had been Godric Gryffindor's.

“What you probably don’t know is that when we were all younger, Godric and Salazar were married and they had a son together named Alaric. Unfortunately, shortly after he turned nine, Salazar began to give him potions lessons and one day there was a terrible accident in his lab and Alaric died. Godric blamed Salazar for their son’s death and ultimately it broke them up and they were bitter rivals from that day on. I can only assume that Godric’s hatred of Salazar hadn’t abated by the time he was the only one of us left and he amended the Sorting Hat’s memories to make it say that Salazar was a Muggle-hating monster, which I guarantee he wasn’t. I’m certain of that because when Salazar later re-married and had more children, one of his daughters married a Muggle-born and he accepted the boy into the family with open arms.”

“Godric and Salazar were married and had a child?”

“Yes, Justin,” Rowena said as she nodded.

“How is that possible? They were both men.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Susan asked as she looked at her housemate with a look of total confusion on her face.

“Muggles don’t accept same-sex relationships,” Draco answered before Justin could say anything. “I remember Charles said that his late Muggle wife would have killed Matthew if she knew he was gay or dating Oliver.”

“So, you mean to say it’s different in the wizarding world?” Harry asked, very curious.

“Yes, Harry, it’s different,” Hermione answered. “Honestly don’t you ever read? The wizarding world has absolutely no problem with same-sex relationships and same-sex marriages are one hundred percent legal.”

“Well, okay, but that doesn’t explain how Godric and Salazar could have had a child together.”

“Justin, that is the reason wizards don’t have a problem with it,” Draco revealed. “There’s a spell which allows two wizards or two witches to have biological children together. In the case of wizards, a surrogate mother has to be used since men can’t carry children, but the end result is the same: a happy, healthy child, the only difference being that it has two biological fathers and no biological mother.”

As soon as he heard that, fireworks began to shoot off in Harry’s brain and he had the sudden urge to jump up and do a happy dance. One of the reasons that Harry had tried fighting the fact that he was gay was because as an orphan, he’d always dreamed of having a large family. He thought that being gay was some sort of cosmic punishment to make his life even worse then it already was by making it impossible for him to have the family he always wanted. Eventually he had accepted being gay, but a part of him had always felt heartsick that he’d never have children. To hear that he could enter into a legal marriage to a man and have children with him made Harry one extremely happy teenager.

“So you mean that Ryan and I could someday get married?”

“Yes, Justin, you could,” Draco answered, before grinning and adding, “I suggest you not hyphenate though and just take Ryan’s surname. No offense, but Justin Finch-Fletchley-Cromwell would be way too long.”

Everyone laughed at Draco’s comment and the six students settled into a companionable conversation as they continued to eat breakfast. Rowena spent quite a bit of time watching them from her frame, happy that she had at last been found and was no longer having to spend her time alone. She was also looking forward to the day when the other quarters were found, as she then would be able to visit and talk with her old friends and fellow founders.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the staff wing of Hogwarts, Valen Lasinius was standing in front of the mirror hanging on his wall. The only thing is it wasn’t Valen's reflection in the mirror, as this mirror allowed two people to talk over great distances.

“He’s found out about being Ravenclaw’s heir,” Valen said to the person in the mirror.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, as you requested, I’ve been keeping a very close eye on him. He’s been in the restricted section of the school library for weeks now with a Gryffindor girl named Hermione Granger looking for information on the Hogwarts founders. They obviously must have found something because last night he found the private quarters of Rowena Ravenclaw and he later told a group of friends that he was Ravenclaw’s heir.”

The man in the mirror just nodded, but stayed silent.

“It’s only a matter of time you know.”

“It's only a matter of time before what, Valen?”

“Before he finds out about you and his real name,” Valen elaborated. “I’m sure you realize that it’s only a matter of time before he finds the original copy of ‘The Tome of the Founders’ and learns not only who the other heirs are but also the fact that his grandparents changed his name.”

“Yes, Valen, I know, I know. The time is fast approaching when I shall have to come to Hogwarts and then he will finally know the truth.”

“You should also know that he’s been dating.”

“Really?”

“Yes, a Hufflepuff boy named Justin Finch-Fletchley. He’s Muggle-born, but he is a good student and a prefect. They’ve been sneaking off to snog with one another for the last three weeks. They’re lucky that I’m his step-uncle or I would have had to take points from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff by now. Any other professor would have if they caught two students snogging after curfew, of course, they don’t know that I’ve caught them.”

“See that you keep it that way, Valen.”

“I will, Master, I will,” Valen said. “Well, I should be going. I have a class to teach in about twenty minutes. You would be proud of him though, he does very, very well in my class.”

“I’m glad. Well, keep me informed, Valen,” the man in the mirror said as his image disappeared.

Putting one of his usual ocean blue robes on over his tunic, Valen picked up his belt and fastened it around his waist, before fastening his scabbard to his belt. Taking his sword from its rack above his desk, Valen looked at the sapphire-studded hilt and the engraving in the blade that said, ‘Lord Valen Tynan Lasinius’.

“It won’t do for my students to see that,” Valen mumbled as he waved his hand over the blade and the engraving disappeared into the silver-like sword. Satisfied that the engraving was hidden, Valen carefully placed his sword in his scabbard and grabbed his wand from the desk. He really disliked having to use the thing, but for the moment, he had no choice but to keep up appearances and not let anyone know that there was more to him then met the eye. Tucking the wand into an inner pocket of his robe, Valen quickly scanned the room to make sure he had everything he needed before leaving the room.

* * *

Draco’s Journal – September 27, 1996

I’m still in a state of shock, to be perfectly honest. I knew that each of the four Hogwarts founders had an heir in the school, but I never expected to be related to one of them. I knew that I wasn’t an heir because if the Malfoy family had been related to any of the founders, Lucius would have made a point of mentioning it at some point, well, at least if we were related to Slytherin or maybe Ravenclaw. If we had been related to Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, Lucius would have hid the fact and probably killed anyone who found out.

Rowena Ravenclaw’s portrait has provided some very interesting information. I know for a fact there are many wizards who would say that she was a raving lunatic who didn’t know what she talking about for saying that there is no difference between Muggle-borns and purebloods. Of course, seeing as how I’ve never really believed in all of the pureblood crap that my sire has preached to me all my life, I choose to believe that what Rowena said was true.

I also look forward to the other heirs being found because I think it will be quite interesting indeed, if what Rowena said proves to be the real reason behind the Gryffindor/Slytherin feud. I can only imagine how everyone will react if it turns out that the Sorting Hat has been lying all these years and that Salazar Slytherin was not the evil person that it has made him out to be. I for one though will be happy if it turns out to be true because a part of me has always been a little upset about being in a house founded by such an evil and prejudiced man.

In other news, dear journal, I think I might stand a chance with Harry after all. I haven’t heard it from his own lips that he’s gay, but he did seem very happy when he found out that same-sex relationships were not only accepted in the wizarding world, but that same-sex couples could legally marry and have children. If he is indeed gay, then I suppose I can understand why he would be happy about that, since I’m sure that as an orphan he wants children. I just pray with every fiber of my being that if Harry does have children that I will be the other father.

I’ve never given much thought really to the idea of being a father. I always assumed that one day I would be one and I swore a long time ago that I’d strive to treat my children better than my sire treated me growing up. Of course, as Rule #221 in the Malfoy Family Code of Conduct states, Malfoys must not have an excess of children. Rule #222 goes on to explain that an excess is more than two. Total rubbish if you ask me. I wouldn’t mind having three or four myself, but if it meant spending my life with Harry, I’d gladly help sire two or three dozen. Of course, I might change my mind about that once I actually feel the pain of childbirth, seeing as how part of the spell that allows two wizards to have children together transfers the labor pain from the surrogate to one of the fathers, leaving the surrogate with only some minor discomfort.

* * *

“May I have your attention, please?” Dumbledore asked as the clock on the classroom chimed half-past seven, signaling the beginning of this week’s Defense Arts activity group. Once he had everyone’s attention, the headmaster said, “As you know, we have been practicing the Disarming Charm and the Patronus Charm over the last few weeks. I am now satisfied that you all have mastered those charms and I believe we are ready to move on to something new. Now, this charm is very advanced magic, in fact it is not even normally taught at Hogwarts. The charm I shall be teaching you now is usually taught during the course of Auror training, but I think it a useful charm that will prove helpful to you all. Tonight we shall begin studying the Time Suspension charm.”

‘Time Suspension charm?’ Harry thought, having never heard of such a charm. He had never even guessed that such a spell would exist.

“Now, the Time Suspension charm can be used during dueling and depending on the power the caster chooses to put into casting it, the charm freezes time for thirty seconds to a minute, allowing them time to cast other spells without interruption.”

A murmur of excitement went through the students, as they all were excited about learning a spell powerful enough to actually freeze time.

“Now, there is a variant of the charm which will keep it active longer than a minute, however, it achieves that by constantly drawing power off the caster’s magical core. Can anyone tell me the inherent danger in doing so?”

Many hands went up and Dumbledore scanned over those who had their hands raised and after a moment, he asked, “Yes, Mr. Malfoy?”

“Drawing too much power from one’s magical core can result in death, so only the most powerful of wizards would even consider using a charm that constantly draws power from their cores.”

“Correct, Mr. Malfoy,” Dumbledore said with a smile and nod. “Five points to Slytherin. Now, as you are all students, I will not be teaching the variant of the charm that draws power from your cores, as I believe that would be far too dangerous for wizards and witches of your skill level. Now, the incantation for the Time Suspension charm is really rather simple and it is similar to the Time of Day charm. The incantation is Tempus Subsisto.”

* * *

To be continued...


	13. Chapter 13

Harry Potter and the Return of the Heirs  
By J.C. Vascardi

* * *  
Chapter Thirteen  
* * *

As had become their routine over the last month since Nick’s birthday, professor and student could once again be found stretching near the lake in preparation for their morning run. Before now, the conversation between the two had been focused on the Weasley family and Bill’s various adventures in Egypt. Running low on things to talk about, however, Bill decided that it was time Nick start talking about his family for once. But, first, he had another question about an observation he’d made recently.

“I couldn’t help but notice that Nearly Headless Nick has been spending an inordinate amount of time around the Slytherin table lately. What’s up with that?”

“Oh, well, he’s been trying to enlist my help in getting him membership in the Headless Hunt.”

“How does he expect you to do that?” Bill asked, totally confused.

“Well, it seems that Nick did some research and it turns out I’m like the twentieth great-grandnephew of its leader, Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore. So, he’s hoping that I might have some influence with him, since I’m the last of the Delaney wizarding line.”

Bill nodded and after a pause, added, “You have my condolences, by the way.”

“Why?”

“Well, you said you’re the last of the Delaneys,” Bill said. “That and you live with your grandmother, so I just assumed that your parents are dead.”

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you never to assume?” Nick asked with a grin. “Of course, I can see why you came to that conclusion. I suppose I should rephrase my earlier statement: I’m the youngest of the Delaneys. My parents are still alive though, in a manner of speaking.”

“What do you mean?”

“My dads are patients at St. Althea’s Hospital in France, where they’ve been in comas since I was two. They were involved in a car accident, which left them with permanent brain damage. The healers try not to show it, but I don’t think they’re very optimistic about their recovery.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, you kind of get used to it after so many years.”

“Isn’t it hard to be so far away from them?”

“Not really,” Nick answered. “I always have a part of them with me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, there’s this,” Nick said as pulled a silver chain with an oval locket from under his shirt. “The locket has their pictures in. Plus, my name, Nicolas Phillipe Delaney, comes from their middle names, Stephan Nicolas Delaney and Jean-Luc Phillipe Byrne-Delaney.”

“Would you mind if I asked to see them?”

“No, not at all,” Nick said as he stopped and opened the locket. Bill came over and took the locket in his hand and gazed down at the pictures of Nick’s two dads.

“They’re both very handsome,” Bill said after awhile. “You look a lot like both of them.”

“Thanks,” Nick said with a smile, as he tucked the locket back into his shirt and the two of them continued their run.

Bill and Nick began talking more about Nick’s family and what it was like growing up with his grandmother. They became so engrossed in their conversation, that Nick wasn’t really paying close enough attention to the ground beneath his feet and he soon felt himself flying forward after catching his foot on a tree root.

Bill tried to catch Nick, but wasn’t quite fast enough and got pulled down with him. The two men landed in the grass in a tangle of limbs, with Nick lying on top of Bill. Nick looked down into Bill’s eyes and stared, mesmerized, for a few seconds before he decided to close the distance between their lips. It wasn’t long before Bill was eagerly returning the kiss as he raised his arms from the ground and wrapped one around Nick’s waist, pulling him closer, and placed his other hand behind Nick’s head.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a month now,” Nick said when they pulled apart a few minutes later.

“So have I,” Bill revealed.

“I know you’re my professor, but I’m hoping you’re open to being more.”

“Well, normally, I’d probably say no,” Bill said. “Seeing as how you’re my student and it’s against school rules for the professors to date the students.”

“Unless they’re seventeen,” Nick said. “Then it’s perfectly okay, seeing as we’re both consenting adults.”

“You’ve been talking to Harry, haven’t you?”

“Yes, I have,” Nick said. “I hope you’re not mad at me, but the reason I started running in the morning was because I was hoping that we could get closer and start dating.”

“I think I can overlook it,” Bill said with a grin, “but only because you’re so damn cute. Just don’t expect any special treatment in class.”

“I won’t,” Nick said as he leaned down and kissed the tip of Bill’s nose. “Not like I would need it though; Potions has always been one of my best subjects.”

“Yeah, that’s true, you do very well in my class,” Bill agreed as he returned the gesture. “What time is it?”

Moving so that he could look at the digital sports watch he’d bought in Muggle London, Nick said, “Damn, we should get back to the castle. Breakfast started twenty minutes ago.”

“I’d like to stay here with you, forever, but I guess we should go.”

“Yeah, we should, but first,” Nick trailed off as he leaned down and pulled Bill into another quick kiss, before he stood up, helped his Potions professor and now boyfriend to his feet, before the two of them headed back to the castle.

* * *

Surprisingly, despite the late hour they returned to their dormitories, nobody had noticed Ryan, Justin, Harry, Draco, Hermione, and Susan’s absences, or if they did, they didn’t say anything to the professors about it.

It’s now been two weeks since Ryan found out that he was Rowena’s heir and he’s been enjoying it immensely. One big perk about it was, of course, Rowena’s quarters, because Ryan and Justin now had a place that they could go to snog without fear of being caught by anyone. True, Rowena’s portrait is there, but she gladly made herself scarce when asked to give her young relative and his boyfriend some privacy.

Ryan had yet to tell Matt and Oliver about being Ravenclaw's heir, but that was because he hadn't been successful in getting them alone long enough to tell them. Tonight, he had decided to risk getting in trouble and go to their shared quarters in the staff wing. Justin agreed to go with him, partly for moral support, but also because Ryan had decided that it was time to tell Matt and Oliver about his relationship with Justin.

“Ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“It’ll be okay, honey,” Justin said as he rested his chin on Ryan’s shoulder and wrapped his arms tightly around his boyfriend’s waist.

“Yeah, we’ll have the cloak,” Ryan said, “and you are a prefect, so on the off chance that we do get caught on the way, you might be able to help out.”

“Well, you’d better hope we don’t get caught,” Justin said. “Prefects are no more allowed in the staff wing without permission then the regular students are.”

Ryan nodded as he wrapped the cloak around Justin and himself, before the two boys left Rowena’s quarters and began to sneak towards the staff wing. Halfway there, Ryan noticed Professor Lasinius standing in a vacant hallway looking out the window at the grounds below.

“Maybe Professor Lasinius would help us,” Ryan said. “He seems to like me and he did make me his assistant in class. What do you think?”

“It’s worth a shot, at least,” Justin agreed.

Ryan and Justin inched behind a statue and removed the cloak. Ryan stuffed the cloak into the pocket of his robe, before Justin and Ryan walked back out into the hallway and Ryan cleared his throat, causing Professor Lasinius to turn around.

“Ah, Mr. Cromwell, Mr. Finch-Fletchley, a bit late for you to be out isn’t it?”

“Well, Professor, we were hoping that you could help us.”

“Go on,” the Professor said.

“Ryan and I need to talk to Professors Cromwell and Wood,” Justin revealed. “They’re in the staff wing though, and even prefects like me aren’t really allowed there without permission.”

“Yes, Mr. Finch-Fletchley, I know the rules,” Professor Lasinius commented with a smile. “However, if you’d like, I can escort you to their room. None of the other professors will say anything as long as you’re with me.”

“That would be great, Professor,” Ryan said. “Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure, Mr. Cromwell,” Professor Lasinius said. “Follow me.”

Ryan and Justin followed Professor Lasinius, and soon found themselves entering the staff wing of Hogwarts Castle. As they arrived at the door to Matt and Oliver’s quarters, Ryan prayed silently that they weren’t about to interrupt a private moment between his cousin and his fiancé. Professor Lasinius knocked on the door and a moment later, Matt answered, fully clothed much to Ryan’s relief.

“Why Valen, what an unexpected pleasure,” Matt said. “Please come in.”

“I would love to, Matthew, but I have other matters I must attend to. I’m simply escorting two students to see you and Oliver.”

It was at this point that Matt notices Ryan and Justin standing behind Professor Lasinius and said, “Ryan? Mr. Finch-Fletchley, isn’t it? Please come in. Are you certain you can’t stay Valen? We just had some tea and biscuits delivered from the kitchen.”

“I thank you for the offer, Matthew, but I’m quite certain. Good evening,” Professor Lasinius said, before he turned and headed down the hall to his own quarters.

“Who was at the door, honey?”

“My cousin and Mr. Finch-Fletchley,” Matt answered as he ushered the two boys in. “Valen escorted them here, but he had other matters to attend to.”

“So, what brings you here, Ryan, Mr. Finch-Fletchley?” Oliver asked.

“Um, you can call me Justin.”

“Oh, of course, Justin,” said Matt, who to be honest wasn’t sure what his first name was, since Justin wasn’t in his class. “Please, both of you have a seat.”

“Would you like some tea and biscuits?” Oliver asked as he motioned to the tray on a nearby side table.

“No thank you, Professor,” Ryan said.

“Now, Ryan, we’re not in class,” Oliver reminded. “You needn’t call me Professor. I’ll be your cousin-in-law in a few short months.”

“A few short months?” Ryan asked. “Does that mean that you and Matt have set a date?”

“Yes, Ry, we have,” Matt said with a smile as he took Oliver’s hand in his and kissed it. “Ollie and I will be married on the 23rd of December.”

“So soon?”

“Well, we’ve been together since we were fourteen, so I’d hardly call it soon, Ry.”

“I know I’m just messing with you, Matt.”

“So, back to the reason for your visit,” Oliver prompted.

“Oh, right, well, you guys know that I’m gay,” Ryan said and Matt and Oliver nodded. “Well, I wanted to tell you that Justin and I are together now. We’ve been dating for a little over a month now.”

“That’s great, Ryan!” Matt said as he pulled his cousin into a hug. “I’m glad that you found someone.”

“You two make a very good-looking couple,” Oliver said.

“Thanks,” Justin said with a smile.

“There is something else I need to tell you,” Ryan said after ending the hug with Matt.

“What’s that, Ry?”

Taking a deep breath, Ryan said, “I’m Rowena Ravenclaw’s heir.”

Matt and Oliver just looked at Ryan blankly for a few minutes, before they both burst out laughing. When they finally got control of themselves, Oliver said, “Good one, Ryan.”

“I’m not kidding.”

“Ryan, stop telling tales,” Matt said. “You’re no more Ravenclaw’s heir than I am.”

“Technically, you are though.”

“What?”

“Technically, you are Rowena’s heir, Matt, but I’m the recognized heir since I found her quarters.”

“You found Rowena Ravenclaw’s quarters?” Oliver asked, the grin on his face clearly saying that he didn’t believe Ryan.

“You two don’t believe me.”

“No, Ryan, we don’t,” Matt said. “I know grandmother didn’t raise you to tell lies, so come one, just admit that you’re kidding and let’s move on.”

“I’m not kidding!”

“Ryan, there’s an old Muggle saying,” Justin said. “Seeing is believing. Perhaps we should just take them to Rowena’s quarters. They’ll have no choice but to believe you then.”

“I knew there was a reason I loved you,” Ryan said as he kissed Justin on the cheek. “Come on you two.”

“Why do you insist on taking us on a wild goose chase?”

“It’s not a wild goose chase, Matt,” Ryan said. “I really am Ravenclaw’s heir, but since you don’t believe me, I’ll just have to show you the proof.”

Matt looked at Oliver with a questioning look and Oliver just shrugged and said, “Well, there’s no harm in playing along with him.”

“You know, you two are going to be eating your words very soon.”

“I seriously doubt that, Justin,” Oliver said.

“Care to put your money where your mouth is?” Justin asked with a sly grin, which looked a bit out of place on a Hufflepuff.

“Sure,” Matt said, confident he was about to make some quick money. “Ten Galleons say that Ryan is only kidding.”

“You’re on, Matt,” Ryan said. “I hope you’re prepared to lose. Care to make a wager, Oliver?”

“Hmm, how about if I win, you give me your invisibility cloak and if you win, I’ll get you Puddlemere season tickets.”

Knowing that he was going to win, Ryan had absolutely no qualms about betting his grandmother’s cloak and said, “You’re on, Ollie.”

“Hey, only Matt has permission to call me that,” Oliver said as the four of them left Matt and Oliver’s quarters and headed for the Ravenclaw hallway.

* * *

Meanwhile, in an unknown location, a teenage boy with black hair stood with his back against the slimy, stone wall of his prison. The boy was deathly pale and so thin that you could see every bone in his body. His clothes were ripped and damp and all of his exposed skin was covered in bruises, scratches, and a thick coating of dirt. His feet ached from standing too long and he wished desperately that he could sit down, but the cold steel manacles encircling his wrists held him in a standing position.

He had no idea how long he'd been in this prison and it was impossible to keep track of time, as there were no windows. His chin lay limply against his chest as he wished that he could just die and leave this torture.

The silence of the room was soon broken by the sound of his cell door opening and he realized that his captor was coming for his daily visit. For awhile, the boy tried to get a handle on how long he'd been here by counting the number of times his captor came to visit him. He lost track quite awhile ago though and was never sure if it was really a very accurate measure of time, because while he thought his captor only visited once a day, he couldn't be sure, as he had no clue whether it was night or day.

“And how are you doing today?” the smooth voice asked.

The boy didn’t bother to raise his head or even reply, which only made his captor angry.

“Look at me when I talk to you, boy!” the man shouted. “I am Lord Voldemort and you will show me the proper respect!”

The boy still didn’t respond to his captor. He knew he would get punished, but he long since stopped caring because he figured out that his captor, this Lord Voldemort as he called himself, enjoyed causing him pain and would still do it even if he did show him the respect that he demanded.

“Idiot boy, now you will feel my wrath! Crucio!” Voldemort shouted as he raised his wand at the boy, who shivered as the immense pain coursed through his body.

Voldemort held the spell for a couple of minutes before he stopped, glared at the boy and said, “You’d better start showing me the proper respect or I may just kill you next time.”

* * *

To be continued...


	14. Chapter 14

Harry Potter and the Return of the Heirs  
By J.C. Vascardi

* * *  
Chapter Fourteen  
* * *

Arriving in the Ravenclaw hallway, Ryan and Justin led Matt and Oliver down the hall and past the entrance to Ravenclaw Tower. Ryan then abruptly stopped in front of a blank stretch of wall and said, “Matt, when you lose, give Justin half of those galleons. Oliver, I want good seats, as close to the Puddlemere hoops as possible.”

“You’re not going to win though,” Oliver said. “I mean, there’s nothing here except a blank wall.”

“Prepare to eat your words,” Justin said as Ryan reached up to the wall and traced the letters ‘R.F.R’ on one of the bricks. The three letters immediately started glowing bright blue and the now familiar blue line emerged from the top of the ‘F’ to trace the shape of a door. Matthew and Oliver just stood there with shocked expressions as the door opened and Ryan said, “Welcome to the private quarters of Rowena Fiona Ravenclaw, Matthew and Oliver. Please come in.”

Ryan and Justin entered Rowena’s quarters, followed by their totally shocked professors. As the door closed behind the group, Matt and Oliver stood in the center of the room, totally speechless. They had been so sure that Ryan was kidding and now they didn’t know what to say.

“Hello boys,” Rowena said. “Who have you brought with you?”

Matt and Oliver whirled around at the sound of the voice and their jaws dropped open at the sight of Rowena’s portrait.

“My cousin and his fiance, Rowena,” Ryan answered. “Allow me to present Professor Matthew Cromwell and Professor Oliver Wood, the music and art professors, respectively.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Rowena said before noticing their expressions and asked, “Is there something wrong with them?”

“They’re just speechless,” Justin answered with a grin. “They were positive that Ryan was telling tales about being your heir and now when faced with undeniable proof they don’t know what to say.”

Rowena nodded and said, “Well, Matthew, Oliver, please snap out of it. As you can see Ryan is my heir and as unbelievable as that may be to you, standing there with your mouths open and not saying anything isn’t going to change it.”

“How is it that Ryan is your heir?” Matthew asked. “I don’t understand how it’s possible.”

“Well, Matt, it’s really quite simple,” Ryan said. “Since finding out, I’ve done some more research and it turns out that our tenth-great-grandfather, Thornton Cromnvell married Fiona Ravenclaw in 1497 and they had one son, Edmund Cromnvell, from whom we are both descended. Fiona Ravenclaw was Rowena’s eleventh-great-granddaughter, making us Rowena’s twenty-third-great-grandsons.”

“Wow,” Matthew said. “So, I’m your heir, too?”

“Technically, yes,” Rowena answered. “However, Ryan is my recognized heir, since he’s the one who found my quarters. As my recognized heir, this room will only respond to him, unless he gives it permission to respond to you.”

“Well, of course he’ll give his favorite cousin permission.”

“Matt, I’m you’re only cousin, well, if you don’t count our second-cousin, Draco, anyway.”

“Details, details,” Matt muttered with a grin. “So are you going to give me permission?”

“I’ll think about it,” Ryan said.

“You’ll think about it?”

“Yes, Matt, I’ll think about it,” Ryan replied. “Just be glad that didn’t say no right away.”

“If it makes you feel any better, Matt,” Justin said, “he hasn’t given me permission either and I’m his boyfriend.”

* * *

Later the next day at dinner in the Great Hall, Dumbledore stood and called for silence.

“Attention students,” Dumbledore said. “At this time I would like to announce a Halloween Ball for all fifth year and older students here in the Great Hall on Halloween night, following the feast. It is my hope that a night of frivolity will help to take everyone’s minds off of current events. Rather than costumes, the Heads of House and I have decided that this will be a formal event. Those of you in first through fourth years don’t feel left out as your Heads of House will make arrangements for smaller parties in your house common rooms.”

‘Oh great, a dance,’ Harry thought. ‘Just what I need: another opportunity to look like an idiot. I need dancing lessons, just in case I actually manage to find a date. With what I now know, I guess I could even ask a guy to be my date and nobody would think anything of it. Not like I have many prospects in that department though.’

‘Just lovely,’ Draco thought, ‘a dance, which Pansy will undoubtedly use as a way of trying to get into my pants again. Honestly, what part of ‘I’m gay’ doesn’t she understand? Oh Merlin, Harry looks so hot. In a perfect world, I’d be going with him, but then again, in a perfect world, my mother would still be alive and we wouldn’t be at war with a psychotic bastard. Why does life have to be so bloody unfair?’

‘Poor Draco,’ Blaise thought as he looked between Draco and Pansy. ‘Her mind is already working out a new plan for getting into his pants and using this dance to do it. I’m sure she already thinks it a given that Draco will ask her to be his date. Regardless of the fact that Draco told her he’s gay last year.’

‘Hmm, as much as it pains me to say, Dumbledore has actually had a good idea.’ Pansy thought. ‘I’ll look so good on Draco’s arm. I’ll dress up in my best dress, fix up my hair, and I’ll wear some of that special perfume I bought in Paris over the summer. He keeps claiming that he’s gay, but I know he’s just playing hard to get. We’re destined to be together and I intend to make sure we are.’

‘Hmm, well, if I do go to the dance, at least I already have a date,’ Ron thought to himself as he smiled at Hermione, who smiled back. ‘Thank Merlin for the inheritance from Sirius, because now I can actually buy some respectable dress robes that won’t make me a laughing stock.’

‘Oh Ron,’ Hermione thought. ‘I’m sure he thinks it a given that I’ll be going to the dance with him. Of course, what he doesn’t know, is that’s still very much up in the air depending on whether or not he’s willing to start talking to Harry again. This silence between them has gone on quite long enough if you ask me and I intend to a put a stop to it.’

‘Hmm, I wonder what he’d say if I asked him to be my date,’ Nick thought as he looked up at Bill sitting at the staff table. ‘We are technically an item now, but we’ve only been together a day. Not sure if he’s ready for the whole school to know he’s dating a student, even if he can’t get in trouble because of that extremely convenient clause to the ‘No Student/Teacher Relationships’ rule. I really wish I knew who came up with that clause, because I’d really like to thank them.’

Looking down at the Slytherin table, Bill did his best to hide his smile as he thought, ‘How did I manage to land myself such a gorgeous boyfriend? We’ve only been together a day and I’m already feeling happier than I have in a long time. I’m sure he’s thinking about asking me to go to the dance with him. I’m thinking about it too, to be honest, but I’m not sure. Halloween is only a little over two weeks from now. I don’t know if it’s such a good idea for Nick and me to make our relationship public knowledge when it’s so young. Despite not being against the rules, there will still be people who aren’t happy about it.’

‘Hmm, I wonder what Justin would think about going together,’ Ryan thought from his seat at the Ravenclaw table. ‘I know that he’s out to his housemates in his year, but I’m not sure if he’s ready to be out to the whole school. For that matter, I’m not sure I am, even if it is accepted.’

‘Oh Ryan looks so cute when he’s thinking,’ Justin thought as he grinned from ear to ear. ‘I’m as sure as I’ve ever been about anything in my life that he’s the one, so I hope he’ll agree to go to the dance with me. Now that I know that the Wizarding World doesn’t care about same-sex pairings, I’m ready for the whole world to know I’m with Ryan. Well, at least the Wizarding World. My parents are a different story because I know they’ll be furious. Probably best to wait until I’m legal before I tell them because I’m sure they’ll disown me.’

* * *

Later that afternoon in the sixth-year Ravenclaw boys’ dorm, Ryan was at a loss. He had come up to his room to get his Charms book from his trunk and when he did, he realized that the small book of invisibility charms that his grandmother had given him was missing. He searched through his trunk, twice, and was unable to find it. Not understanding what could have happened, he quickly checked the small shelf above the headboard of his four-poster with no luck, before searching through the drawer of his bedside table, again, with no luck.

“Lose something, Ryan?”

A bit startled by the sudden voice, Ryan saw his dorm mate, Kevin Entwhistle, and said, “Oh, hi Kevin. Yes, I’m missing a book.”

“Textbook?”

“No, it was a gift from my late grandmother,” Ryan said. “A small volume of invisibility charms.”

“Well, where did you last see it?” Kevin asked.

“That’s the strange part,” Ryan answered, “because I could have sworn the last time I saw it was two nights ago when I locked it in my trunk.”

“I take it that it’s not there now?”

“No, it isn’t,” Ryan confirmed. “I can’t find it anywhere.”

“Could someone have stolen it, you think?”

“Who would do that, though?” Ryan asked. “I mean the only people who are in here on a regular basis are you, Stephen, Terry, Michael, Anthony, and me.”

“Hmm, well, have you checked to see if anyone’s tampered with your trunk?”

“Well, no, I didn’t,” Ryan said. “I guess I should check though.”

Kevin nodded, as Ryan pulled out his wand, pointed it at his trunk, and cast a charm to determine if anyone other than him had cast any charms on it recently. If someone had, the charm would cause the trunk to turn blue, otherwise nothing would happen. When nothing happened, Ryan said, “Hmm, well, nobody tampered with my trunk. Or if they did they must have used a charm which was too powerful to be detected by the charm I just cast, which I think pretty much rules out anyone in our year.”

“Yeah and everyone younger,” Kevin said. “I’m not sure if even the seventh years would now a charm strong enough to not be detected by the charm you just used.”

“Oh well, I’m not going to worry about it right now,” Ryan said.

“Have you tried summoning it?” Kevin asked rather off-handedly after a few minutes.

“Your mind is in the gutter thinking about Stephen again, isn’t it?”

Kevin blushed a bit at the mention of his boyfriend, Stephen Cornfoot, and said, “What makes you think that?”

“Kevin, we’re Ravenclaws. You should know better then to ask if I’ve tried summoning it, because for the summoning charm to work one has to have at least a general idea where the item being summoned is. Seeing as how I have no idea where it is, I haven’t tried summoning it.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right,” Kevin said with a sheepish look on his face.

“You and Stephen have a hot date tonight?”

“All our dates are hot,” Kevin answered.

“Well, at least you two remember to use silencing charms,” Ryan commented. “Unlike a certain two professors I know.”

“Hmm?” Kevin asked, obviously having been lost in his thoughts about Stephen again. “Oh, um, you mean Professor Cromwell and Professor Wood?”

“No, Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick,” Ryan replied sarcastically, as Kevin’s mouth dropped open. “Of course I mean Professor Cromwell and Professor Wood!”

“Oh, damn, mate,” Kevin said. “You sure know how to ruin a guy’s daydreams. Now, I have a bloody mental picture of McGonagall and Flitwick going at it. Eeww, that's so gross.”

Ryan just laughed, and asked, “Want me to obliviate the last few seconds of your memory?”

“Ah, don’t bother,” Kevin said with a grin. “I’ll just go find Stephen. I’m sure he can take my mind off of that unpleasant mental image.”

“I’m sure he can,” Ryan said as he grabbed his Charms book. “Have fun, Kevin, I’m off to the library to do my Charms homework.”

* * *

Later that evening, well past midnight, Valen Lasinius stood in his quarters. Normally, he would not be awake at this hour, but he had the feeling that his contact would soon be getting in touch with him through the mirror and he knew it would be a good idea to be awake when they did. Sure enough, the mirror soon glowed brightly for a second, before a face appeared in the mirror, although, it wasn’t the face that Valen expected.

“Valen, are you there?”

Shaking his head and coming to his senses, he replied, “Yes, I’m here, Mistress.”

“Valen Jorian Lasinius,” the woman said, “why on Earth are you still wearing those glamour charms at this hour?”

“I apologize, Mistress,” Valen said as he waved his hand over his face, which caused subtle but distinct changes to his appearance. His shoulder-length black hair grew about a foot longer and turned platinum blond and his blue eyes turned green.

“Ah much better,” the woman said. “Now, I’m sure you must be wondering why I’m contacting you. His Supreme Lordship is busy with important matters of state and asked me to contact you for an update on his behalf.”

“Of course, Mistress,” Valen said. “There isn’t much to report since I made my last report, but there have been a few developments.”

“What kind of developments, Valen?”

“Well, he has told his cousin Matthew about being Ravenclaw’s heir now. Matthew didn’t believe him at first and I heard something about Matthew owing him ten galleons. I’m guessing it was a bet on whether or not he actually was Ravenclaw’s heir.”

“So do anyone other than Matthew and the group of friends you already informed us of know?”

“Only one person,” Valen said, “Matthew’s fiance, Oliver Wood.”

The woman in the mirror nodded before asking, “Anything else?”

“Dumbledore announced a ball at dinner tonight,” Valen said. “A formal event for the fifth, sixth and seventh year students after the Halloween feast.”

“Ah, I do so love a good ball,” the woman said. “Perhaps it’s time that his Supreme Lordship and I come to Hogwarts.”

“I’d have to agree,” Valen said. “The books in Ravenclaw’s library aren’t readable yet, but, the Mass-Book Restoration charm was cast and I’m thinking they will be readable in early November.”

“I’m sure you’re looking forward to our visit, Valen,” the woman said. “I imagine you can’t enjoy wearing those glamour charms.”

“No, Mistress, I do not,” Valen said. “Of course, it is necessary, none the less.”

“Well, some of them yes,” the woman agreed. “However, I still fail to see the necessity of changing your hair and eye colors. I’m sure there are plenty of people at Hogwarts with blond hair and green eyes.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Valen said with a grin. “His Supreme Lordship thought that if I was going to change my appearance though, that I might as well go all the way and make myself look completely different. Though to be honest, it isn’t the glamour charms that I really dislike.”

“What is it that you dislike then?”

“Using that infernal stick of wood these people at Hogwarts call a wand,” Valen answered. “I realize that they aren’t as magically advanced as our society, but I can’t believe that they haven’t realized that their infernal wands are actually limiting their powers.”

“I suspect there are a few, most likely in the wizarding government, who do realize that,” the woman said. “They don’t, however, want that knowledge to get out because they don’t have the ability to trace magic that isn’t performed with a wand.”

“Well, that’s not entirely true, actually,” Valen said. “As requested, I performed background checks on all of his new friends here at Hogwarts. One of them, a sixth-year Gryffindor named Harry Potter, was sent a warning letter in his second year for casting a Floating Charm, which was illegal since he’s underage and he did it outside of school. I did some further checking though and it turns out it was actually a house-elf named Dobby who cast the charm.”

“Oh dear lord,” the woman said. “So they have limited capabilities when it comes to detecting wandless magic. Obviously, it is nowhere near advanced enough though if they can’t tell the difference between a house-elf’s magic and a human’s magic.”

Valen nodded to the woman in the mirror before he said, “So, will you and his Supreme Lordship be attending the Halloween Ball?”

“Yes, Valen, I think we will,” the woman answered. “So, just get through the next couple of weeks and then his Supreme Lordship and I will come to Hogwarts and you can stop using the glamour charms and that infernal stick of wood.”

“Oh thank the entire pantheon!” Valen exclaimed.

The woman in the mirror laughed and said, “At least those glamour charms haven’t changed you, Valen. You always could make me laugh.”

“Well, what are brothers for?”

“You mean other than annoying their sisters to no end?”

“Hey! I resent that remark.”

“Oh, I’m only kidding, Valen,” the woman said with a grin. “Honestly, baby brother, you would think you’d be able to tell when I’m kidding after all these years.”

“I’m afraid that’s a skill I’ve never quite mastered,” Valen answered. “Of course, I expect his Supreme Lordship hasn’t quite mastered it either.”

“Well, that’s true,” the woman confirmed. “But, I have to keep him on his toes, don’t I? Anyway, I will go now and let you get some sleep, Valen. I’ll see you in two weeks at the Halloween Ball.”

“I look forward to it, Mistress,” Valen said with a bow as the woman in the mirror disappeared, before Valen got ready for bed.

* * *

To be continued...


	15. Chapter 15

Harry Potter and the Return of the Heirs  
By J.C. Vascardi

* * *  
Chapter Fifteen  
* * *

The next day in the Gryffindor common room, Hermione was sitting in a corner of the room studying, while Ron was playing Exploding Snap with Seamus and Dean. After a few minutes, the game ended and Ron walked over to Hermione, as Seamus and Dean left the room.

“Still studying?”

“Yes, Ronald,” Hermione said. “You should do more of it.”

“Why should I waste time studying when there are so many other things I’d rather be doing?”

“Studying is never a waste of time.”

“You have to admit though there are a lot of much more fun things.”

“I don’t have to admit anything,” Hermione said. “Studying is fun.”

Ron shook his head before pushing Hermione’s hair out of the way and leaning down to kiss her neck. It wasn’t long though before he found himself falling backwards after Hermione pushed him away. Standing back up, Ron asked, “Why in Merlin’s name did you do that?”

“I’m trying to study.”

“So? You’ve never pushed me away before when I’ve tried to show you affection during your study sessions.”

“I have an important test coming up in Arithmancy that I need to be ready for.”

“Fine, I’ll leave you to your studying in a minute, but can we just talk about the ball for a minute?”

“What about the ball?”

“Well, I was hoping that you’d help me in Hogsmeade on Saturday.”

“What do you need my help with?”

“Picking out dress robes for the ball,” Ron said. “I’m certainly not about to wear those frilly old things mum sent me for the Yule Ball in fourth year. Bill and I had a chat yesterday, too, and he suggested that I get you to help me pick out my robes to ensure that they looked good with the dress you’re wearing.”

“Why does it matter if your robes match my dress?”

“Well, Bill said that since you and I are going together, it would look better if we coordinated the colors. Of course, what do you expect? He is gay after all, but then again I must admit that he’s always had great fashion sense.”

“What makes you so sure we’re going together?”

“What?” Ron asked. “Hermione, of course we’re going to the ball together. You’re my girlfriend!”

Deciding that now was the best time to drop her bombshell, Hermione closed her textbook, stood up, and said, “Ronald, I’m sorry, but I will not be attending the Halloween Ball with you.”

“What do you mean you’re not going to the ball with me?”

“I’m sorry, Ron, but until you stop acting like a jerk, I refuse to go anywhere with you.”

“I’m acting like a jerk? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Yes, Ron, the way you’ve been treating Harry lately is reprehensible.”

“Harry befriended Malfoy!”

“So? Is that really a good reason to give up on over five years of friendship?”

“It’s Malfoy!”

“I don’t care, Ronald! In case you haven’t noticed, Draco is not the same person he was last year.”

“Bloody hell, Hermione, don’t tell me you’re under the bloody ferret’s spell too.”

“I’m not under a spell, Ronald, but I’ve seen a different side of Draco this year and I like what I see. I also trust my very good friend Harry’s judgment. If he believes that Draco deserves a chance, then I think that as Harry’s friends, it’s the least we can do.”

“Bloody hell, Hermione,” Ron repeated angrily. “This is the bloody ferret we’re talking about. The sick, twisted, evil to the core Death Eater in training! He’s made our lives a living hell for the last five years and for you to stand there saying that he deserves a chance is completely crazy!”

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Ronald,” Hermione said, hoping that she would be able to make him see reason without going as far as she was prepared to go. Of course, this was Ronald Weasley and she knew that he was a blockhead at the best of times. So be it. “Until you are willing to put your anger aside and trust Harry’s judgment, I’m afraid I can’t be with you anymore.”

“You’re breaking up with me!?”

“Yes, Ronald, I’m breaking up with you.”

“Fine!” Ron shouted as he stomped up the stairs to the boys’ dormitories. Slamming the door behind him, Ron balled up his fists and thought, “This is all the slimy Slytherin git Malfoy’s fault. I swear I’ll get back at him for breaking Hermione and I up. I don’t know how, but I’m going to make him wish he’d never been born.”

* * *

Harry was sitting quietly under a tree by the lake. It was Thursday, classes were over for the day, and Harry didn’t have to report to the Room of Requirement for Defense Arts for another three hours. The Halloween Ball was in two weeks and Harry had no date and zero confidence in his dancing ability.

Over the summer, Bill had helped him with many things, such as helping him shop for a brand new wardrobe so that he wasn’t wearing Dudley’s hand me downs anymore. Another thing that Bill had attempted to help Harry with was his dancing skills, but Harry still wasn’t very good.

Harry was probably better then he had been at the Yule Ball, but he was sure that he was still bad enough that he’d look like an idiot at the ball without help.

‘I wish there was a spell for learning how to dance,’ Harry thought. ‘Just point my wand at myself, say an incantation and become a master dancer in less then two seconds.’

Unfortunately for Harry, there was no such spell. At least, there wasn’t according to Rowena’s portrait and Hermione, and Harry was confident that there was more then enough spell knowledge between the two of them that if there was a spell to learn how to dance, they’d know about it.

Harry closed his eyes and leaned his head against the trunk of the tree as he sighed and thought, ‘Maybe I’ll just skip the ball and save myself the humiliation. I can’t dance and even if I could, I don’t have a date.’

The sudden noise of someone clearing their throat jarred Harry from his thoughts and he looked up to see Hermione standing there with a smile on her face.

“Hi Hermione,” Harry said weakly.

“What’s wrong, Harry?”

“Nothing is wrong.”

“Now, Harry, you should know that you can’t fool me. I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re upset about something, so spill it already.”

Harry sighed as he turned his gaze to the lake and said, “Well, if you must know, I’m upset about the ball. I can’t dance and even if I could, I don’t have a date.”

“Well, I think I can help you with both problems.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked as he looked up at Hermione again.

“I’ll teach you how to dance.”

“Hermione, I appreciate the offer,” Harry said. “I’m beyond hope though when it comes to dancing. Bill tried to teach me without much success.”

“Well, Harry, I’m confident I can help you,” Hermione said. “Many people don’t know this about me, but I’ve actually taken ballroom dance lessons and I was the best student in the class.”

Harry looked at Hermione for a second, before muttering, “Why am I not surprised?”

Hermione ignored Harry’s comment and said, “So do you want my help?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, Hermione,” Harry said. “When Bill was trying to teach me I can’t even remember how many times he had to stop and cast a pain-relieving charm on his feet after I stepped on them too many times.”

“You don’t have to worry about that, Harry,” Hermione said with a smile. “After you asked Rowena and me about a spell to learn how to dance, we put our heads together and we did come up with something that should prove useful.”

“What’s that?”

“Rowena taught me a spell to make my shoes as hard as iron but as light as a feather. So, Harry, you could repeatedly drop a brick on my feet and I wouldn’t be in any pain.”

“Well, then, I guess I don’t have much room to argue anymore.”

“No, you don’t. So, will you allow me to teach you how to dance?”

“Sure, why not? Not like it’s going to matter anyway, though. I don’t have a date.”

“Yes, well, as you may recall, I said that I could help you with both of your problems.”

“You’re suddenly a matchmaker as well as a dance instructor?”

“No, but, I thought I could teach you how to dance and then you could escort me to the ball; just as friends, of course.”  
“Escort you to the ball? What about Ron?”

“Ron and I aren’t together anymore.”

“What? Since when?”

“Since I broke up with him this morning,” Hermione answered.

“Why in Merlin’s name did you do that, Hermione? I know you love Ron.”

“You’re right, Harry, I do,” Hermione said. “He’s just being a total jerk right now and he pushed me to breaking up with him. He’ll come around eventually I’m sure and then we can perhaps pick up where we left off, but for now, we’re not an item.”

“Even so, I can’t go to the dance with you, Hermione. Ron is mad enough at me as it is for befriending Draco. If I go out with you, he’s going to blow his top.”

“Harry, he knows you’re gay. Even Ron isn’t stupid enough to think that a gay guy is trying to steal me away from him.”

Harry really wasn’t sure if that was true, because it was classic Ron to get so angry that he didn’t think before acting. So, it was entirely possible that Ron would see Hermione and him together and get so angry that he’d react before stopping to think long enough to remember that Harry was gay.

Looking at Hermione, however, Harry could see the determined look in her eye and he knew better then to think that he could talk her out of anything once she got that look.

So, standing up, Harry hugged Hermione and said, “Thanks for the help. You’re a good friend.”

“No problem, Harry,” Hermione said as she returned the hug. “Why don’t we go to the Room of Requirement? Defense Arts doesn’t start for another two-and-a-half hours.”

Harry nodded and followed Hermione back to the castle.

* * *

“Oh my Gods,” Nick said as he entered Rowena’s quarters. “You were telling the truth.”

“Why is it that whenever I tell anyone lately they don’t believe me?”

“Well, Ryan, it’s rather unbelievable,” answered Bill. “Everyone in the school knows what the Sorting Hat said about each founder having an heir, but one just doesn’t really expect them to be someone they know.”

“You know, that doesn’t make any sense,” Ryan said. “I mean, the Sorting Hat didn’t say who the heirs were, just that they were students at this school. Which means, obviously, someone is going to know them.”

“Of course, you’re right, Ry,” Nick said, “but then again whoever said that life had to always make sense?”

“Good point,” Ryan said. “I’d introduce you to Rowena, but I haven’t seen her all day. I’ve checked every room and she’s not in any of her portraits.”

“Perhaps she went out visiting other portraits?”

“No, Bill, I don’t think so,” Ryan replied. “She said that after all these years the only portraits in the castle who would even know she was around would be the portraits of the other founders.”

“Well, maybe she went to visit one of the founders then.”

“She can’t, Nick. She said that the magic that hid her quarters prevented her from being able to leave them and visit other portraits. The only way that she could have gone to visit one of the other founder’s portraits is if their heir has found their quarters and thus lifted the protective magic.”

Bill and Nick nodded to Ryan, as the three of them sat down in the large, overstuffed blue armchairs near the common room fireplace; Ryan sitting in one, with Bill sitting in the other and Nick on his lap.

“I take it you two finally got together?” Ryan asked as he looked at the two of them with a smile.

“What do you mean, ‘finally’?” Bill asked.

“I’m just surprised is all,” Ryan said. “It took you two over a month of running around the lake to finally admit that you liked each other. I mean, I’ve known that Nick liked you since before school started.”

“Well, Ryan, you know why we didn’t get together before now,” Nick said. “Once school started and Bill was revealed as our Potions professor, I figured I couldn’t date him.”

“Well, it is against the rules,” Bill said. “Though I really do wish I knew who added the clause saying that it was okay if the student was seventeen or older. I’d love to thank them, of course, then again, they’re probably long dead and I won’t be able to.”

“Yes and no,” a male voice that nobody recognized said.

Looking up towards the direction of the voice, Ryan noticed a young man who looked like he couldn’t possibly be more then nineteen wearing what looked like ninth century clothes in Rowena’s frame.

“What do you mean, yes and no?” Ryan asked.

“The person who added the clause is long dead, but you can thank them. You see, it was Rowena Ravenclaw who added the clause in question and as you well know, Ryan, Rowena can be spoken to through her various portraits.”

“Who are you and how do you know my name?”  
“Oh, I’m sorry, where are my manners?” the young man asked. “Please allow me to introduce myself. Brendan Connor Carnes-Ravenclaw at your service.”

“Brendan Ravenclaw?” Ryan asked. “Are you Rowena’s son?”

The young man laughed at that. “No, Ryan, I am not Rowena’s son. You’ll notice that I said my name was Brendan Connor Carnes-Ravenclaw. Connor is my middle name, but Carnes is my maiden name. I just hyphenated when I married.”

“So, you’re Rowena’s son-in-law?” Ryan asked.

“Are you sure you’re Rowena’s heir?” Brendan asked with a lopsided grin.

“Yes, I’m sure,” answered Ryan, a look of confusion gracing his features, nonetheless.

“Well, Ryan,” Brendan said, “I am not one of Rowena’s in-laws, nor am I her father, uncle, brother, cousin, nephew, child, or grandchild.”

A look of realization spread across Ryan’s face, as he asked, “You mean?”

“Yes, Ryan,” Brendan confirmed. “I am Rowena’s husband and your twenty-third-great-grandfather.”

“And you took Rowena’s last name?” Bill asked.

“Yes, well, she was an only child and the Ravenclaw family needed an heir to carry on the family name,” Brendan answered. “I had two older brothers, so I didn’t really need to worry about carrying on the Carnes name, so I agreed to take Rowena’s name, so that our children would be named Ravenclaw.”

“You’re so young,” Nick commented.

“Why thank you,” Brendan said. “Of course, you’re right, I am only nineteen. Or, at least, I was when my portrait was painted. I could have had it updated over the years, but I rather liked the idea of eternal youth, so I decided to keep it the way it was.”

“So you and Rowena Ravenclaw were married?” Bill asked.

“Yes, we were,” answered Brendan. “We fell in love while I was still a student at Hogwarts. When the school was founded, the rule about no student and teacher relationships was written, but after Rowena and I fell in love, she asked the other founders if she could add the clause stating that it was okay for students and teachers to date if the student was over seventeen. They knew that Rowena and I loved each other, so they agreed to the clause. I’m glad they did, because if they hadn’t, I would have had to wait until after I graduated to be with Rowena. I was so deeply in love with her that I don’t think I could have handled trying to have a completely platonic relationship for three years.”

“Three years?” Nick asked. “You mean you were seventeen as a fourth year student?”

“Yes, I was,” revealed Brendan. “You see before Hogwarts, there was no school of magic, so when the founders started the school, they accepted every student who was between 11 and 17 by the first of September. It took several years before the majority of the eleven year olds were first years, twelve year olds were second years, et cetera.”

“Hello,” Rowena said as she appeared in the portrait with Brendan. “I see you’ve met Brendan.”

“Yes, we have,” said Ryan. “I feel kind of strange saying it considering who he is, but damn, Rowena, you sure have extremely good taste.”

“Thank you, Ryan,” Rowena said as she wrapped her arms around Brendan, who was beaming at Ryan for the compliment. “He is quite handsome isn’t he?”

“You’re quite beautiful yourself, Lena.”

“Lena?” Bill asked.

“Brendan’s pet name for me,” answered Rowena. “He wanted to shorten my name but he thought Ro sounded too masculine and Wena sounded too weird, so he just started calling me Lena. By the way, Ryan, who are your friends? I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.”

“Oh, Brendan, Rowena, this is my good friend Nick Delaney and his boyfriend, Bill Weasley, also our Potions professor. Nick is a sixth year like me, but he’s seventeen because his birthday is September 10th.”

“Ah, so I see the clause I created for Brendan and me is still proving useful after all these years.”

“Extremely,” Nick said. “I can’t thank you enough because Bill is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“I know that feeling all to well,” Rowena said as she squeezed Brendan and kissed him on the cheek. “Brendan is the best thing that ever happened to me. I always figured I’d die an old maid, but then I found Brendan and he changed all of that. We fell madly in love, got married, had four children and had a hundred and forty-two fabulous years together.”

“Oh, Lena, dear, please,” Brendan said with a grimace. “I agree they were fabulous, but, please don’t remind me how long we were married; it makes me feel so incredibly old.”

Rowena laughed and said, “Well, Brendan dear you were a hundred and sixty when you died, you were old. Of course, I still loved you then as much as I did when you were eighteen and we got married.”

“I know, Lena, dear. I still loved you as much as I always did too, but I just wish that my experiments on eternal youth would have worked.”

Rowena laughed again and said, “You’ll have to forgive my husband. He was always a bit vain and obsessed with staying young. Right up until the day he died, he cast glamour charms on himself to make himself look younger.”

“Lena, you’re embarrassing me,” Brendan said. “Of course, I’m not the only one who could be a bit vain when they wanted to be, now am I? I remember when you got your first gray hair, the way you were carrying on it’s as if the world was going to blow up any second.”

“Yes, well, what can I say?” Rowena asked. “Just because I’m an intellectual doesn’t mean that I am not a woman. I still love to look my best and the presence of gray hair on my head was just not something I was ready to face at that point in time.”

“Well, Lena, you were seventy at the time,” Brendan said. “You had to know it was coming.”

“Yes, I knew, that doesn’t mean it made it any easier to accept. Not to mention the fact that with you so obsessed with youth, I was afraid you’d see the gray hair and go find someone younger. Being twenty years older then you I always did worry that you’d find someone your own age and leave me.”

“Lena, dear, I hope you realize just how silly that worry was. I never wanted to leave you, I loved you more then life itself, but even if I had wanted to, you know I couldn’t. We were bonded, in case you forgot, which made going our separate ways impossible.”

“Yes, that’s true,” said Rowena. “I know I worried about stuff that didn’t need to be worried about, but that’s my mother’s fault. She taught me from a very young age that it was unnatural not to have anything to worry about and that you should worry if you can’t find anything to worry about.”

“No offense, Lena, but I never liked your mother.”

“Well, that makes two of us,” Rowena said. “She was quite annoying when she wanted to be, which was, admittedly, all the time. She told me that I’d understand her better once I had children, but to be honest, I still didn’t understand why she acted the way she did.”

As interesting as it was listening to his ancestors talking to one another, when by all rights he shouldn’t be able to, Ryan did have a question that was burning in his mind.

“Rowena how is it that Brendan is here? I mean, I’ve never seen his portrait before today and you said that you were alone here in your quarters since you died.”

“You’re right, I did say that and it’s true. When I died, the protective magic of my quarters kicked in immediately and unfortunately, the portrait version of me was here in my quarters at the time. So, the magic effectively trapped me here and prevented Brendan or anyone else from coming to visit me.”

“When you found Lena’s quarters, Ryan, the protective magic began to lift, but it wasn’t until today that it had lifted enough to allow me to get in to see Rowena.”

“So where is your portrait, Brendan?” Bill asked.

“At Raven Hill,” answered Brendan.

“Where is Raven Hill?” Nick asked.

“Raven Hill is my ancestral home,” Rowena said. “My great-grandfather built the mansion on a hill so he decided that since our name was Ravenclaw, that he’d call his new house Raven Hill. As the only child of my generation, I inherited the house after my father died and that’s where Brendan and I lived with our children when school wasn’t in session.”

“So as your heir, does that mean that Ryan owns Raven Hill?” Nick asked.

“Well, I haven’t been there in a thousand years, so I have no idea.”

“It’s still standing,” Brendan said. “It hasn’t been lived in on a regular basis though since 1623 when our eleventh-great-grandson, Kayne Ravenclaw, died. He was Fiona’s older brother, but they never got along with each other and when Fiona married Edmund Cromnvell she moved to his estate and she never came back.”

“What about Kayne? Did he have an heir to pass ownership of the house too?” Bill asked.

“Yes, he did have one son, Connor, but he never really liked Raven Hill. Always said it reminded him of a mausoleum, which I never understood to be honest. He moved away when he turned seventeen and only very rarely came back to visit with his father. Connor did inherit the house when Kayne died, but he never came back after that. Nobody else did either. It’s only the portraits and the house-elves now.”

“Hmm, Ryan, have you checked the ‘Tome of the Founders’ recently?” Rowena asked. “If ownership of Raven Hill has come into your branch of the family, then your uncle is probably the owner without even knowing it. I doubt the book will be fully readable yet, but you might be able to glean some information at least that will tell you if your family owns Raven Hill. You might even get a clue or two to the identities of the other heirs.”

“No, I haven’t, but it’s a good idea,” Ryan said as he got up and went over to the large double doors that led into Rowena’s library. Curious, Nick and Bill followed him and Brendan and Rowena disappeared from the common room frame as they moved to the library.

“Wow,” Bill and Nick said as they entered the library for the first time.

“Yes, it’s very impressive, isn’t it?” Ryan asked, as Bill and Nick nodded their heads in agreement. “Library, I require information on who now owns the Ravenclaw ancestral home of Raven Hill.”

The bright blue orb immediately appeared over the central table, but this time, instead of darting around the room, it went down into the ‘Tome of the Founders’ and the pages quickly began turning of their own accord. Ryan walked over to the central table and looked down at the large leather-bound ‘Tome of the Founders’ to find that he could now read some of the names on the page.

“So, Ryan what’s the verdict?” Nick asked, after Ryan had been flipping and skimming page after page of bright blue ink for close to twenty minutes.

“Well, it seems that Rowena and Brendan had four children: Connor, born in 720, Brendan and Brandon, born in 725, and Fiona, born in 730.”

“Yes, that is correct,” confirmed Rowena.

“Fiona never married nor had children, Connor’s line died out in 1292 and Brendan’s line died out in 1398. So, Kayne and Fiona Ravenclaw, born 1470 and 1475, are descended from Brandon Ravenclaw. Up until that point, it looks like the births of Kayne and Fiona was the first time that Brandon’s line ever produced more than one heir in a single generation. Kayne’s son Connor’s only child, a son named Ross, died when he was 10 and the only other Ravenclaw heirs listed after Fiona are all Cromwells, so I guess that means my family owns Raven Hill.”

“Cool,” Nick said. “Are you in the book, Ryan?”

“Well, of course I’m in the book, Nick, I’m an heir. Of course, it’s possible my name isn’t visible yet.”

Turning to the appropriate page, Ryan skimmed down the list of blue names and then said, “No, my name isn’t visible yet. After my grandfather’s name it gets very hard to read anything else. I can just barely make out my uncle’s name and my mother’s name.”

“Why don’t you look at some of the other listings?” Brendan asked. “See if you can find clues on whom the other heirs are.”

Looking at the list on the next page, written in bright green ink, Ryan knew that it must be the listing for Salazar Slytherin's heirs.

“Hmm, it cuts off right after the birth date of Tom Marvolo Riddle, otherwise known as Voldemort.”

“Must you say his name?” Bill asked.

“Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself,” said Ryan.

“Now you’re sounding like Hermione,” said Nick.

Ryan rolled his eyes and said, “Well, just above his name there’s a listing for an Ariana Merope Riddle, born June 26, 1925. It doesn’t list a death date and goes on to list her age as 71, so I guess whoever this Ariana is, she’s still alive.”

“My grandmother was born in 1925,” Nick commented. “Of course, her birthday is July 18th and she’s an only child. I guess that means that I’m not Slytherin’s heir.”

“That’s probably a good thing, Nick,” Bill said as he wrapped his arms around his boyfriend and rested his chin on Nick’s shoulder. “Certain members of my family are going to be angry enough when they find out I’m dating a Slytherin. They’d be beyond furious if I was dating the heir of Slytherin.”

“Well, you now have the name of one of Salazar’s living heirs,” Rowena commented. “Perhaps if you do a little research on Ariana you’ll be able to figure out who the student heir is. At any rate, what about Hufflepuff and Gryffindor, any clues?”

Ryan turned a few more pages and came across the pages with the names written in black ink, signifying the heirs of Helga Hufflepuff. Skimming down the list, Ryan said, “I can make out several first and middle names, but I can’t make out many of the surnames or the dates. Let’s see here, Barnabas Ephraim, Hepzibah Esther, Ephraim Zebulon, Zebulon Jeremiah, Jeremiah Isaiah, Isaiah, I can’t make out his middle name, Hannah Elspeth,” Ryan paused for a moment and then said, “Hmm, this next entry I can read part of the surname; it says Cedric Jeremiah Dig.”

“Did you say Cedric Jeremiah Dig?” Bill asked.

“You know him, Bill?” Nick asked.

“If it’s the person I’m thinking of, yes I knew him, in passing at least.”

“Knew?” Ryan prompted, noticing Bill’s use of the past tense.

“It could be Cedric Diggory,” Bill elaborated. “He was a Hufflepuff, but he was killed near the end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament two years ago.”

“Was he the Hogwarts champion?” Rowena asked, before Brendan asked, “Did one of the tasks kill him?”

“Yes, he was the champion,” replied Bill. “Harry Potter was also the Hogwarts champion though, because one of You-Know-Who’s Death Eaters was masquerading as a Hogwarts professor that year and placed a powerful enough Confundus charm on the Goblet of Fire to make it draw two names from Hogwarts, picking Cedric and Harry. At any rate, it wasn’t the task that killed him, it was on You-Know-Who’s orders that he was killed by the Killing curse, after Harry and him were Portkeyed off Hogwarts grounds by the Tri-Wizard Cup.”

“The cup was a portkey?” Nick asked.

“Yeah, I assume the Death Eater masquerading as a professor turned it into one. That was the night that You-Know-Who regained his body and Harry had to duel with him. Harry probably would have died that night, but he was lucky enough to buy a wand that had the tail feather of the same phoenix that You-Know-Who’s wand core came from, so that it forced the Priori Incantatem effect and Harry was able to escape, bringing Cedric’s lifeless body back to Hogwarts with him.”

“It sounds like Harry is one very remarkable young man,” Brendan commented.

“Yes, he is,” said Bill as his mind flashed back to some of the times that he’d been with Harry, which caused his cheeks to flush.

Nick knew that Bill was probably remembering some of the times that he’d slept with Harry, but Nick knew that it was over between the two of them. Nick was also not the jealous type, so, he wasn’t about to get mad that Bill was blushing over some of his more intimate memories of Harry.

“Can you read anything after the entry for Cedric?” Rowena asked.

“Um, no, not really,” answered Ryan. “Well, it looks like a ‘Z’ and then what could be either an ‘A’ or an ‘E’, I can’t really be sure.”

Flipping a few more pages, Ryan then said, “As for Gryffindor, the most recent entry I can read is for a Nicholas Alaric Gryffindor, so that doesn’t help because I know there isn’t anyone in this school named Gryffindor.”

“Well, I’d say tonight has still been interesting,” Rowena commented. “You now have some clues to work with at least. Maybe you’ll even manage to figure it out before the book is fully restored.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Ryan said.

* * *

To be continued...


	16. Chapter 16

Harry Potter and the Return of the Heirs  
By J.C. Vascardi

* * *  
Chapter Sixteen  
* * *

Draco was sitting in the Slytherin common room doing his Arithmancy homework. He was focusing so hard on it that he didn’t notice Pansy coming up to the table until she laid her hand on his shoulder.

Draco looked up and asked, “Is there something you wanted, Pansy?”

“Isn’t there something you want to ask me?” Pansy asked in response.

Draco had the grace to take a few seconds before answering with, “No, there isn’t.”

“Oh come on, Draco darling, I know you want to ask me something so just do it already.”

“Okay,” Draco said, hoping what he was about to ask would work even though he knew it probably wouldn’t. “Could you please leave me alone?”

“Draco, that’s not what you want to ask me and we both know it.”

Draco closed his Arithmancy book, stood up and said, “Pansy, if you are referring to the fact that you think I should ask you to the Halloween Ball, that isn’t going to happen. I’m gay, remember?”

“You keep saying that,” Pansy said, “but I don’t believe you. Come on, Draco, just stop playing hard to get and ask me. I know you want to.”

“Actually, I don’t,” Draco drawled. “You are the last person in the world I would ever want to ask out on a date.”

“Oh Draco you know you want me.”

“No, Pansy, I don’t want you.”

“Give me one good reason why you don’t want me.”

“Okay, you’re a girl!” Draco exclaimed.

“I said a good reason.”

“That is a good reason, Pansy,” Draco said, “because in case you’ve missed it the other million times I’ve said it, I’m gay!”

The other Slytherin students in the common room had by now stopped what they were doing to watch Pansy and Draco. Draco suddenly realized that he’d never actually given Pansy any proof that he was gay. He’d said it millions of times to her, but he had never given her any kind of tangible proof. Of course, he was a Malfoy, raised to think that his word was good enough and according to Rule #129 in the Malfoy Code of Conduct, it should be, but Draco had realized quite a while ago that almost all of those rules were complete nonsense.

It was at that moment that Blaise walked into the room and Draco sent up a silent thank you to the Gods. Sidestepping Pansy, Draco walked over to Blaise and threw his arms around him as he kissed him on the lips for everyone to see. The only person in the room to react was Pansy because she couldn’t believe what was happening.

“Draco what are you doing?” she asked.

As the kiss ended, Draco looked at Blaise, sending him a silent plea to play along, to which Blaise nodded imperceptibly.

“Pansy, what did it look like?” Draco asked.

“It looked like you were kissing Blaise, but that doesn’t make any sense, because you’re supposed to be kissing me.”

“Pansy, for the last time, I have no desire to kiss you because I don’t like you. I’m gay.”

“I demand that you stop saying that and do what we both know you want to do and ask me to the dance!”

“I’m a Malfoy, Pansy,” Draco drawled. “Malfoys don’t give in to demands, they make them. Now, I demand that you shut your mouth and leave me alone with my boyfriend.”

“Blaise is not your boyfriend, Draco,” Pansy said. “He can’t possibly be your boyfriend because I’m the one you want. I’m the only one you’ll ever want and it’s time you accept that.”

“No, Pansy, it’s time you accept that Draco doesn’t want you.”

“Blaise, I’m talking to Draco, this doesn’t concern you,” Pansy said coldly.

“I’m warning you Pansy, don’t talk to my boyfriend that way,” Draco said as the patented Malfoy death glare slid into place on his face.

Pansy was shocked for a minute because while she had seen Draco give the Malfoy death glare to many people over the years, he had never given it to her. She wasn’t going to let that stop her though, because she knew that Draco was destined to be hers and she was not going to rest until he was.

“Draco, darling, just ask me to the ball already and end this foolishness.”

“The only foolishness going on here, Pansy is yours,” Blaise said. “In case you haven’t noticed, everyone in the room is listening to this conversation and I’m sure they’re all thinking that you’re a complete and total idiot to continue thinking that Draco is going to ask you to the dance despite all the evidence to the contrary.”

“What evidence to the contrary?” Pansy asked. “I haven’t seen any evidence to the contrary. The only thing I’ve seen is Draco playing hard to get by trying to make me think that he’s gay, which I know he isn’t.”

Draco knew that he was about to break Rule #100 in the Malfoy Code of Conduct, which stated that what Malfoys did in the privacy of their bedrooms should remain private, but he didn’t care. He was determined to get Pansy off his back and he was willing to take drastic measures to do so. Looking around the room, Draco noticed Adrian Pucey standing in the doorway to the private room given to the Head Boy or Head Girl if they were in Slytherin.

‘Perfect’, Draco thought, as he asked, “Pucey could you come over here?”

Adrian didn’t know why Draco was calling him over, but he was curious, so he obliged.

“Yes?” Adrian asked.

“Pansy seems to be having trouble grasping the fact that I’m gay,” Draco drawled. “I’ve tried telling her and I’ve tried kissing Blaise in front of her, but she still refuses to believe me,” then lowering his voice to almost a whisper so that the rest of the room wouldn’t overhear him, “So, I want you to cast the Virginitas charm on me, Pucey.”

The Virginitas charm was an ancient charm used mostly by some of the pureblood families on perspective mates to determine if they were virgins. Not every family cared, but some wanted to insure that anyone marrying into their family was a virgin. If a person is a virgin, the charm caused a white aura to surround them. If not, a blue aura enveloped the person and if the person they lost their virginity to happened to be in the room, the charm would make that known.

“Perhaps we should go someplace a bit more private first?” Adrian suggested in a low voice. “We can use my room if you want so everybody doesn’t know your private business.”

“Thank you, Pucey,” Draco said, which was exactly why he had asked Pucey to do this in the first place.

Blaise, Draco, and Pansy followed Adrian into his private room, at which point he locked the door and cast a silencing charm so that nobody outside would hear the conversation.

“Are you sure about this, Malfoy?” Adrian asked.

“I’m positive,” answered Draco.

Adrian nodded as he pointed his wand at Draco and said, “Virginitas!”

Almost immediately a blue aura surrounded Draco, signifying that he was not, in fact, a virgin. Within seconds a blue line extended out from Draco’s aura and went over to Blaise, and surrounded him in blue as well, signifying he was the one who had taken Draco’s virginity.

“Still don’t believe that I’m gay, Pansy?” Draco asked with a smug expression on his face. “The Virginitas charm does not lie and you now have proof that I’ve had sex with Blaise. Now, the question is, why would I do that if I wanted you? And before you ask, no, Blaise did not use the Imperius curse on me, I was very much so a willing participant the multiple times that we did it.”

“I don’t believe you,” Pansy said. “You want me Draco, I know you do. If you had sex with Blaise, then it must be because he forced himself on you.”

“Now wait just a bloody minute here!” Blaise shouted. “Pansy I have never forced myself on anyone and I highly resent that you would even suggest that I did!”

“It’s the only explanation that makes any sense,” Pansy said. “Draco and I are destined to be together, so there is no way that he would ever have sex with anyone other than me unless he was forced to.”

“You are seriously diluted if you believe that, Pansy,” Blaise said. “I have never forced myself on Draco. I mean, think about it Pansy, do you honestly think that I am stupid enough to force myself on him? Pansy you and I both know that nobody forces Draco Malfoy to do anything and if I had forced myself on him, you bloody well know that I would not have my bits intact right now. Which I assure you, I do.”

Pansy remained quiet as she thought about that statement. After a minute she said, “I still don’t believe that Draco would have sex with you willingly.”

Adrian could see that this situation had the potential to get out of control at any minute, so he decided it was time for an even more drastic measure than the Virginitas charm.

“Pansy, since you don’t believe that Draco is telling you the truth about being gay and you don’t believe that Blaise is telling the truth when he says that he did not force himself on Draco, perhaps you would believe it if I question them with Veritaserum?”

“You have some?” Draco asked.

“Of course,” Adrian said. “Do you think I would have asked if I didn’t?”

The truth of the matter was that Professor Snape brewed a batch of Veritaserum and gave several vials of it to Adrian, figuring that it would be useful to him in his job as Head Boy to insure that if he had to question anyone, that they would be telling the truth. Technically, Professor Snape shouldn’t have done it, but everyone in the castle knows that he gives preferential treatment to those in his house.

Adrian walked over to the large wardrobe in the corner of the room, opened it, and then pulled a potion vial from a rack on one of the shelves.

Draco was beginning to wonder if this was a good idea or not, because depending on how Adrian worded the questions, the potion might force him to reveal the fact that he had a major crush on Harry and that was the last thing he wanted Pansy to know. Draco knew that Blaise already suspected it and he knew that Adrian’s family was neutral in the war, so he wasn’t concerned about them knowing, but he knew that Pansy intended to willingly accept the Mark after graduation.

He was also desperate for Pansy’s constant attempts to get into pants to stop though, so, however un-Slytherin it may have been, Draco was willing to be brave, take the risk and drink the Veritaserum.

“Why don’t you two sit down on the bed?” Adrian asked as he pushed his desk chair over so that he could sit right in front of them.

Draco and Blaise nodded before they sat down on Adrian’s bed, as Adrian uncorked the Veritaserum and carefully put three drops of the potion into both Draco and Blaise’s mouths. With Adrian standing in front of him, Pansy didn’t see the look that Draco gave Adrian, but Adrian caught it and understood the silent question that the younger boy was asking.

Turning towards Pansy, Adrian raised his wand and said, “Silencio!”

Pansy looked stricken, to which Adrian just grinned and said, “I think it best that I be the only one who can ask the questions. I’m sure you understand, Pansy. If not, well, then I can always give you detention with Filch for interfering in official Head Boy business and you know that Professor Snape will believe me over you.”

Pansy continued to look stricken, but she did know that Adrian was right. Adrian was the first Slytherin named Head Boy in the last several years, so as far as Professor Snape was concerned, he could do no wrong after he had brought the honor back to Slytherin house where it belonged.

Adrian sat down across from Blaise and Draco and waited a few minutes for their eyes to glaze over, signifying that the potion had kicked in. When it did, Adrian asked, “Draco, are you gay?”

“Yes,” Draco answered.

“Draco, have you had sex with Blaise?”

“Yes,” Draco answered again.

“Draco, have you ever wanted to have sex with Pansy?”

“No,” Draco answered almost immediately.  
“Hmm, Blaise, have you had sex with Draco?”

“Yes,” Blaise answered.

“Did you ever force yourself on Draco?”

“No.”

Standing up to face Pansy, Adrian said, “Well, there you have it Pansy. Draco said he was gay under the influence of Veritaserum and Blaise said that he did not force himself on Draco. So, that should be enough for you. The silencing spell will wear off in a few minutes.”

Adrian then unlocked his door, pushed Pansy out of the room before he closed and re-locked it. Turning to the boys still sitting on his bed, Adrian grinned and said, “You know, I may be the Head Boy, but I’m still a Slytherin. As such, I should probably find a way to use this situation to my advantage.”

* * *

Ryan, Nick, Hermione, and Harry were all sitting in the common room of Rowena’s quarters. Ryan asked Hermione and Harry to drop by in order to inform them about the clues they’d discovered in the ‘Tome of the Founders’.

“Maybe we should tell Professor Dumbledore,” Hermione said. “He was on staff here when Tom Riddle first came to school here, so he might know more about this Ariana Riddle.”

“Yes, that’s true,” agreed Nick.

“Well, it’s certainly possible,” mused Harry. “The man usually does seem to know everything. It wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest if he already knows that Ryan is Ravenclaw’s heir.”

“That is entirely possible,” Rowena interjected. “As Headmaster of Hogwarts, he would also be in control of the castle wards. As such, the castle keeps him very well informed about what goes in within its walls, almost as if he were omnipresent.”

“So, Dumbledore knows everything that goes on in this castle?” Ryan asked.

“Well, within reason,” clarified Rowena. “For example the castle will not inform him about every conversation that takes place within its walls. He also doesn’t know what every single person is doing at every single second of the day, but the castle will give him a general idea of what’s been happening. So, you may notice that he asks questions and while he may present the façade of already knowing the answers, in truth, he probably doesn’t, because the castle has only told him so much and he still needs to fill in the blanks.”

“Hmm, well, it’s nice to know that he really isn’t omnipresent and omniscient,” Nick commented. “I’m sure that there’s a lot that goes on in this castle that people would not want the headmaster to know about. Not necessarily because it’s against the rules, but because it’s of an extremely private nature.”

“Yes, I’m sure that’s true,” agreed Ryan. “I know for a fact that being professors at this school hasn’t stopped Matt and Oliver from going at it, so I’m sure they’d both shudder to think that Professor Dumbledore could see them doing it. I just hope they’ve learned to use silencing charms.”

“For the sake of every professor whose quarters is anywhere near theirs’, I’d have to agree,” Nick said as everyone laughed.

After a few moments, they calmed down and Hermione asked, “So, should we go and see Professor Dumbledore?”

“I think we should,” Nick responded. “I mean he might not know anything, but then again, he could have the key to everything if we tell him what we know. He’s a very, um, experienced man.”

Nick was, of course, going to say old, but thought better of it.

“Rowena, now that Brendan was able to visit you here, can I assume that you are capable of leaving your quarters?”

“Well, that depends, Ryan,” answered Rowena. “Are there any portraits in his office?”

“Oh yeah,” Harry said immediately. “There are several portraits of the past Headmasters and Headmistresses of Hogwarts. I never counted how many exactly, but there’s a ton of them. I’d guess about a hundred at least.”

“Then I can visit his office, yes,” said Rowena with a smile. “I just need to have a general idea of where it is.”

“Well it’s one of the towers,” Hermione said. “The entrance is guarded by a statue of a gargoyle. Harry can probably show you on the Marauder’s Map.”

“No need for that,” Rowena said. “I know which tower you’re referring to. That particular tower was originally the Astronomy Tower for the first few years that Hogwarts was open until we built a taller one. We then turned that tower into a large guest suite for important guests. Let me guess, you speak a password to the gargoyle, it jumps aside, and then there’s a staircase beyond which moves, correct?”

“Yes, that’s right,” confirmed Harry.

“Helga charmed that,” Rowena said. “She was always very proud of it.”

* * *

Meanwhile, back at Voldemort’s lair, still chained to the wall was Voldemort’s black-haired, dark-eyed, teenage prisoner. Unknown to him, two days had passed since Voldemort’s last visit. He knew though that at some point, Voldemort would be coming to see him with food and drink.  
The boy did once manage to figure out that Voldemort seemed to bring him food every third visit he made to his cell. So, assuming that Voldemort visited every day, the boy ate twice a week.

‘Never enough food to really satisfy my hunger,’ the boy thought. ‘I suppose he only feeds me enough to ensure I don’t die, although I wish he would stop that because death would be more than welcome at this point.’

The cell door opened and Voldemort walked into the room, followed by a house-elf carrying a tray with a cup of water, a bowl of broth, and a few small strips of bread.

“I don’t know why, since you never show me the proper respect,” Voldemort hissed, “but I’m going to be nice and let you sit down this time.”

Raising his wand, Voldemort unlocked the manacles on the boys’ wrists and he immediately fell to the ground, as his legs and feet were extremely numb.

Voldemort conjured a table and chairs in the center of the room, and laughed as the boy began crawling towards it. He was getting dirtier from the dirt on the floor and his robe ripped when it caught on a loose brick in the floor with a jagged edge.

Voldemort laughed cruelly and said, “I should have done this sooner. Watching you suffer is so entertaining!”

The boy finally managed to get to the table and pull himself up into one of the chairs with great difficulty. It was the most he had moved in quite awhile and all of his muscles were extremely weak. The house-elf looked rather sad as it set the tray on the table in front of the boy, but it dared not say anything in front of Voldemort.

“Now, eat up, boy,” said Voldemort coldly. “We wouldn’t want you to starve to death.”

The boy considered not eating so that he could perhaps speed up his release from this torture by his own death, but he knew from experience that Voldemort would not allow him to not eat. The boy had tried it a few times before and Voldemort only got mad and then forced him to eat.

The boy picked up a piece of the bread and with great difficulty brought it up to his mouth. As the boy repeated the process, it got easier, as his muscles adjusted to the use. He soon finished eating the strips of bread and then grabbed the cup of water with both hands. The boy shakily brought the cup to his lips and drank, only about half of it making it into his mouth, as the rest dripped out of the corners of his mouth.

For some unknown reason, this made Voldemort angry, “Idiot boy! You have to drink every last drop of that water!” turning to the house-elf, he said, “You! Get this fool boy another glass of water from the jug outside and be quick about it!”

The house-elf bowed before it popped out of the room, only to pop back in a second later with another glass of water. This time, however, the elf had added a straw to the cup, so the boy could drink the water with minimal amounts escaping his mouth.

Voldemort chuckled and said, “Good thinking, you stupid little whelp. Just for that, I won’t use the Cruciatus on you today. I’ll just use it twice on one of the other house-elves instead.”

The boy drank his water and the house-elf then began to feed the boy spoonfuls of the broth. If Voldemort was angry that the house-elf was helping the boy, he didn’t say anything. Once the broth was gone, the house-elf grabbed the empty tray from the table and left.

“I should have my head examined for being so nice to you, boy,” Voldemort said as he used his wand to move one of the other chairs to a corner of the room and then transfigured it into a bed. “Although, I suppose it can’t hurt to give you a few creature comforts. It’s not like they’re going to help you at all.”

The boy slid out of his chair and began to slowly crawl over to the bed. Apparently, Voldemort didn’t think he was moving fast enough, or he just wanted to cause him more pain, so he conjured a whip and began to lash the boy repeatedly, adding to the already numerous scratches and bruises on his body.

Voldemort laughed as the boy curled up into a ball on the floor, with his legs and arms blocking his face. That didn’t stop Voldemort from continuing to whip him for several more minutes though. When he finally did stop, the boy stayed in the position he was in, too afraid to move.

“It’s good that you fear me, boy,” Voldemort hissed as he banished the whip and pointed his wand at the quivering boy. “I shall have to reward you for that. Crucio!”

Voldemort held the spell for a few seconds, as the boy, whose throat was now less dry from having recently ingested liquid, managed to scream in agony, softly, but still what could only be described as screaming. Voldemort then called the house-elf back in and told it to tend to the boy’s injuries so that ‘his guest’ wouldn’t bleed to death and then swept out of the room, laughing cruelly.

The elf managed to calm the boy down and then helped him to the bed where it began to clean and dress the open wounds. Once that was done, the elf helped the boy to take off his robe and then tucked him into the bed. The elf folded the robe and placed it on the table before leaving. If anyone had been in the room to look at it, they would have seen the silver-trimmed green patch with a snake in the shape of an ‘S’ embroidered on the black robe.

* * *

Later that day, after classes were over for the day, Harry, Hermione, Ryan, and Nick carefully made their way to Dumbledore’s office. Harry and Hermione were under Harry’s cloak and Nick and Ryan were under Ryan’s cloak. Keeping a watchful eye on the Marauder’s Map, Harry knew that Ryan and Nick were right behind them. There was also no sign of any professors, Mr. Filch, or Mrs. Norris and Professor Dumbledore was alone in his office.

Arriving at the gargoyle, Harry whispered, “Dumbledore’s password is always some kind of sweet, sometimes a Wizard sweet other times a Muggle sweet, so start naming everything you can think of.”

“Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans,” Hermione whispered.

“Acid Pops,” Nick whispered.

“Chocolate Frogs,” Ryan whispered.

“Cockroach Clusters,” Harry whispered.

This continued for several minutes, as the four students first tried every kind of Wizard candy they could think of without any success. Raised by Muggles, Harry and Hermione had a much better knowledge of Muggle sweets than Ryan did or Nick did, and they began naming off everything they could think of.

Harry tried ‘Lemon Drops’, ‘Sherbet Lemon’, ‘Skittles’, and ‘Peanut Brittle’ without any success. Hermione tried ‘Sweet Tarts’, ‘Nerds’, and ‘Kit Kat’ without any luck. Harry and Hermione were beginning to get a bit frustrated to be honest, when finally the gargoyle jumped aside when Harry said ‘M&Ms’.

The four teens sighed in relief as they stepped forward onto the moving staircase as the gargoyle moved back into position. Reaching the doors at the top of the stairs, Harry and Ryan removed their cloaks from themselves and their companions and were just about to knock on the door when Dumbledore’s voice said, “Come in.”

Harry opened the door and the four students walked into Dumbledore’s office, which hadn’t really changed much since Harry was last in the room.

Dumbledore smiled at the group and conjured four comfortable chairs in front of his desk and said, “I was wondering when you four would get up here. Had some trouble with the password did you?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said as the four of them sat down. “I take it you’ve been eating M&Ms lately?”

“Yes, Harry, I have,” Dumbledore said with a smile. “They’re really quite good. I know that some wizards would think I was crazy to say it, but I’ve got to give the Muggles credit, they really do know their candy. Tea, lemon drops, M&Ms anyone?”

The frustrating time spent trying to guess the password had left the four students’ nerves a bit frazzled, so they all accepted Dumbledore’s offer of tea. The headmaster smiled and conjured tea for everyone. Once everyone’s tea was just the way he or she liked it, Dumbledore asked, “So, what brings you to my office?”

“Well, Professor,” Ryan said, “it’s in regards to the heirs.”

“Ah, yes, I’ve been thinking about that quite a bit since the Sorting Hat mentioned it,” Dumbledore said as he took a sip of his tea.

“Well, sir, we know who one of them is,” said Hermione. “And we have clues as to the identities of two others.”

“Do you now?” Dumbledore asked, his eyes twinkling. “And who is the heir that you know?”

“That would be me, sir,” Ryan answered. “I’m the twenty-third great-grandson of Rowena Fiona Ravenclaw.”

Dumbledore smiled and looked at Ryan over the top of his half-moon spectacles, “And how did you come to this conclusion, if I may ask?”

“Professor Weasley gave Hermione and me permission to research in the Restricted Section. We found an old book about noteworthy witches and wizards of the 15th and 16th centuries. I found an entry for an Edmund Cromnvell who married a Fiona Ravenclaw in the 1400’s.”

“To make a long story short, Ryan found my quarters and I assure you, if he wasn’t my heir he wouldn’t have been able to find them.”

Dumbledore turned behind him to look at the empty portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black, who was currently at his portrait at Grimmauld Place, to see the face that was now familiar to the teenagers in the room as that of Rowena Ravenclaw.

“Professor Dumbledore, I take it?” Rowena asked. “Allow me to introduce myself, I am Rowena Ravenclaw.”

“It is truly a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Ravenclaw,” Dumbledore said. “I must admit that I was unaware that any portraits of the founders existed in this castle.”

“Please call me Rowena. As for the portraits, well, the only portraits of the founders are in our private quarters near the houses we founded. Very powerful magic protects the quarters of each founder and only an heir can get past the magic and allow others to do so. By finding my quarters, Ryan has also freed me to be able to visit other portraits.”

“So, you have in a sense been a prisoner of your own magic since your death I take it?”

“Yes, unfortunately, it was an unforeseen side effect of the spells that we had used to protect our quarters. We made the magic strong enough that nobody but our heir could get in or out, we just didn’t take into consideration the fact that it was powerful enough to prevent our portraits from leaving our quarters. At any rate, when Ryan found my quarters, the magic loosened its grip, so to speak, enough for me to be able to leave them and I must admit that after over a thousand years, it really is quite nice to have some different scenery.”

“Now, Hermione, you said you had clues to the identities of the other founders’ heirs?” Dumbledore asked.

“Yes, sir,” confirmed Hermione. “In her quarters, Rowena has her own private library and there’s a book written by the founders which lists all of their heirs. Unfortunately, the preservation charms that Rowena cast before she died didn’t take into consideration the fact that it would take over a millennium for her quarters to be found.”

Dumbledore nodded and said, “I assume some form of restoration charm has been cast?”

“Yes,” Rowena confirmed, “I taught Ryan, Hermione, Harry, and three of their friends how to simultaneously cast a spell, as I did not believe that Ryan would have been strong enough at his age to cast the Mass-Book Restoration charm by himself considering the vast number of books and scrolls in my library.”

“The charm was cast a few weeks ago,” Harry said. “The night we cast the charm, Rowena speculated that it would take a little over six weeks to fully restore her collection, so that would be the first or second week of November.”

“I take it, however, that the book with the heirs’ names has restored enough to give you some clues nonetheless?”

“Yes, sir,” Ryan said. “We have clues for the heirs of Slytherin and Hufflepuff.”

“And what is this clue for Slytherin’s heir?” Dumbledore asked.

“Before we get into that, Professor,” Rowena interjected, “I thought you would like to know that the Sorting Hat has been lying all these years.”

“What? I lie?” the Sorting Hat asked as it perked up on its shelf when it heard itself being talked about.

“Yes, Sorting Hat,” Rowena answered. “And don’t even try to argue with me because I’m sure that you recognize my voice.”

“Rowena Ravenclaw,” the Sorting Hat said.

“That is correct, Hat,” Rowena said. “And yes, you have been lying for many, many years now. I don’t blame you though, because it must have been Godric who changed your memories after the other founders and I passed away, but all these years you’ve been making Salazar Slytherin out to be a Muggle-hating monster, when in reality nothing could be further from the truth.”

Rowena then explained the truth to Dumbledore and informed him of a spell which she thought would counteract the charms that Godric must have used to give the hat false memories and to block the real ones. Pulling out his wand, Dumbledore tried the spell, and it indeed worked.

“Oh dear,” the Sorting Hat said as the false memories disappeared and the memories that Godric had locked away came back to the ancient hat. “I feel quite ashamed that I could have ever spoken so badly of Salazar.”

“Its okay, Sorting Hat,” Rowena said. “You can hardly be blamed for your former owner’s actions.”

“Well, now that we have that settled, what was the clue for Slytherin’s heir?” Dumbledore asked.

“Just before Tom Riddle’s name there was another name listed,” Ryan said. “Ariana Merope Riddle, born June 23, 1925, age 71. There was no death date, so whoever this Ariana is, we figure she must be alive.”

“Hmm, yes, I’ve heard the name before,” Dumbledore said. “She was on our list of perspective students right up until the time when she would have turned eleven, at which point her name was crossed off the list with blue ink, signifying that she had been enrolled at Beauxbatons Academy in France.”

“So, Ariana Riddle attended Beauxbatons?” Hermione asked.

“To the best of my knowledge, yes, she did,” Dumbledore confirmed. “I can fire-call Madame Maxime to confirm, but first, what was the clue you found for the Hufflepuff heir?”

“Well, the last name that could be read started with a ‘Z’,” Nick said.

“There was also a listing for a Cedric Jeremiah Dig in the book,” Ryan added. “Professor Weasley was with Nick and me when we saw the clue and he said that he thought that was possibly Cedric Diggory.”

Pulling a book from a nearby shelf, Dumbledore asked, “Did it list any dates?”

“Yes,” Ryan said. “It said born on September 17, 1977 and died on June 24, 1995, age 17.”

“That is indeed Cedric Diggory then,” Dumbledore said as he began flipping through the book. “Now, let me see here, if memory serves, Mr. Diggory has a relative who attends Hogwarts. Ah, yes, here we are. Mr. Diggory’s mother, Hannah Diggory, is the younger sister of one Isaiah Smith, father of sixth-year Hufflepuff student, Zacharias Smith.”

* * *

To be continued...


	17. Chapter 17

Harry Potter and the Return of the Heirs  
By J.C. Vascardi

* * *  
Chapter Seventeen  
* * *

“So, Zacharias Smith is Hufflepuff’s heir?” Harry asked.

“Yes, it would seem so, Mr. Potter,” Dumbledore answered. “If the book in Rowena’s library said that Cedric was an heir, then obviously, as his cousin, Zacharias is an heir as well.”

“Come to think of it,” Ryan added, “there was an Isaiah and a Hannah listed in the book, so everything fits. This Zacharias Smith must be the heir of Helga Hufflepuff.”

“Well, then, we know who Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff’s heirs are,” Hermione said with a satisfied smile.

“Yeah, now if only we could determine who the heirs of Slytherin and Gryffindor are, we’d be set.”

“I quite agree, Mr. Delaney,” Dumbledore said. “However, I have an important meeting at the Ministry soon, so I’m afraid I will have to leave. I’d be more than happy to help you with the clue for the Heir of Slytherin, but it may have to wait a few days, as the war is keeping my free time limited these days.”

“How is the war going?” Harry asked.

“Not well, my boy, not well at all,” Dumbledore said as any hint of the normal twinkling left his eyes. “I wish I could give you more information then that, but I really must get to the Ministry.”

The four students nodded to their Headmaster, before standing up and leaving his office. Arriving in the hallway outside of the gargoyle, Harry asked, “So, what should we do now?”

“We should probably go and get Zacharias and tell him what we’ve learned,” Hermione said.

“Well, as much as I’d love to see the look on his face when he finds out,” Nick said, “I promised to meet Bill tonight. So, I should be getting down to the dungeons so I can shower and get ready.”

“Okay, well, have a good time, Nick,” Ryan said with a smile.

“It’d be impossible to not have a good time,” Nick said with a grin. “My boyfriend has got to be one of the world’s best kissers.”

“I can certainly attest to that,” Harry said. “He’s actually the only person I’ve ever kissed, but it’ll be pretty hard for anyone to beat him.”

“You know, it’s a good thing I’m not the jealous type,” Nick said as he playfully punched Harry in the shoulder. “Otherwise, I’d be extremely jealous of you Harry, considering that you’ve not only kissed my boyfriend on multiple occasions, but also had sex with him.”

Harry grinned and said, “Well, he’s a bloody good kisser, but he’s an ever better lover. I’m a little jealous to be honest simply because I know how good he is.”

“As interesting as this conversation is,” Hermione interjected, “perhaps we should go and get Zacharias now and Nick should head down to the dungeons before he’s late for his date.”

“Good idea, Hermione,” Ryan said, before Nick said his goodbyes and left. The three remaining students then headed for the Hufflepuff dorms, agreeing to collect Justin and Zacharias, take them back to Rowena’s quarters to fill them in and then hopefully go looking for Helga’s quarters.

* * *

Draco’s Journal – Friday, October 18, 1996

Well, today has certainly been a long day. I simply cannot fathom how deluded Pansy was earlier. She simply refused to acknowledge that I’m gay, even after I kissed Blaise in front of her. I’m very thankful that Blaise was willing to play along, because if he hadn’t been, I would have had an even harder time convincing Pansy that I’m gay.

Of course, considering the fact that she still didn’t believe me after the kiss with Blaise and after Pucey cast the Virginitas charm on me which revealed that I’d lost my virginity to Blaise, I’d be willing to bet that she still doesn’t believe it, even after the Veritaserum. If she doesn’t, she has got to be the most deluded person on the planet, probably the entire universe, actually.

As for the Halloween Ball, the episode with Pansy this afternoon really did get me to think about it. Since Dumbledore announced it I’ve been trying to put it out of my mind. Obviously, I’m not about to even think about asking the person I really want to go with. I have no clue if he’s gay or not, and we don’t have the best history. True, we have been getting along better as of late. One could even call us friends, but now that we’re finally friendly with one another, I’m not about to do anything that might jeopardize our newfound friendship.

So, I asked Blaise to be my date for the Ball. Seeing as how he didn’t know whom else to go with himself, he accepted. We’re going to go into Hogsmeade together tomorrow to shop for some new dress robes. Even though some people would probably say that neither of us really needs any more clothes, Blaise and I both believe that one can never have too many outfits. Especially considering that we’re wizards and we can always magically expand the size of our cupboards as needed or shrink outfits we don’t wear very often so they take up less space. Honestly, I really don’t understand how the Muggles survive without magic.

* * *

“So, you mean that I’m the heir of Helga Hufflepuff?” Zacharias asked, obviously shocked.

“Yeah, you are,” Ryan confirmed. “You really had no idea?”

“Well, my great-great-great-grandaunt Hepzibah Smith apparently said we were related to Hufflepuff,” Zacharias revealed. “From what I’ve been told though, the rest of the family thought she was just a crazy old woman who only said that to justify her purchase of a cup that belonged to Hufflepuff.”

“So your family owns a relic of one of the founders?” Hermione asked.

“No, actually we don’t,” Zacharias answered. “Nobody really knows what happened to it, but shortly after Hepzibah died, the cup, along with over half her other collectibles, disappeared. My grandfather sold what was left in an attempt to restore all the money that she had squandered away on useless junk.”

“I don’t think a relic of one of the four founders falls into the useless junk category, Zacharias,” Hermione admonished.

“First off, call me Zach,” Zacharias said. “Secondly, I agree, the cup wasn’t useless junk, that would have been something my family would have treasured. However, from what my grandfather told my dad, with the exception of a few trinkets, most of Hepzibah’s collection was useless junk that most people would never even give a second glance, let alone waste money to buy it.”

“Well, now that you know you are Helga’s heir, perhaps you could go and find her quarters. I’m looking forward to talking with her again after all these years.”

When Ryan and the others brought Zacharias and Justin to Rowena’s quarters, Rowena hadn’t gotten back from the Headmaster’s office yet, so Zacharias didn’t know about Rowena’s portrait. Noticing the look of confusion on his face, Harry said, “Zach, meet Rowena Fiona Ravenclaw; Ryan’s twenty-third great-grandmother.”

“Wow,” Zacharias said. “Tonight is full of surprises isn’t it? First I find out that I’m related to Helga Hufflepuff and now I find out that I can talk to one of the long dead founders of Hogwarts.”

“Well, my boy, if you would go and find Helga’s quarters, you could speak to two of them,” Rowena urged.

“Oh, of course, um, where are they?” Zacharias asked.

“If memory serves,” Rowena said, “the entrance to Helga’s quarters are in the same hallway as the entrance to the kitchens. Go down the hall until it dead ends and then simply trace the letters ‘H’, ‘M’, ‘H’, on one of the bricks. I think it’s the twelfth brick from the floor, four bricks over from the corner.”

* * *

Meanwhile in the staff wing, locked in a passionate kiss with their tongues dueling for supremacy, were Bill Weasley and Nicolas Delaney. While it was true that they hadn’t been together very long, only about a week at that point, they weren’t wasting any time in getting to know one another. The attraction between the two the first time they met in Diagon Alley had been instant. They’d both spent the time between that meeting and their next dreaming about one another.

Of course, Bill’s dreams of Nick were tempered by the fact that he knew that he was about to become the Potions professor at Hogwarts. He knew that it was against the rules for him to date Nick and so he tried not to think about the boy who had stirred up a passion within him as red hot as his fiery hair. It wasn’t until his summertime lover Harry Potter snuck into his quarters that he found out that Nick was only days away from turning seventeen.

Upon learning that little tidbit of information, Bill had spent several nights with thoughts of the young and handsome boy of his dreams keeping him from sleeping. It soon got so bad that Bill had to brew up a double batch of Pepper-Up potion just so that he wouldn’t fall asleep while teaching. Then Nick began to show up every morning and join him on his morning run around the lake. At first, Bill wanted to be angry that he couldn’t seem to escape his gorgeous pupil, but Nick really was too good looking for him to stay mad at for long.

The two of them spent a month getting to know one another. True, it had been Bill who did most of the talking and Nick now knew almost everything there was to know about Bill Weasley. Over that first week of their relationship, Nick did his best to fill Bill in on everything about himself; when they weren’t in one of their frequent lip locks at any rate.

“Oh Nick, I really do love kissing you.”

“Same here, Bill,” Nick said as he captured Bill’s lips in another passionate kiss.

The two young men continued to kiss as they danced around the room, wrapped tightly in each other’s arms. So engrossed in their kiss, they weren’t paying attention to where they were going and Bill soon felt himself falling down onto his bed, pulling Nick down on top of him. Their passionate kiss never broke though as Nick decided to be bold and take advantage of the fact that Bill was now underneath him. As Nick deepened the kiss, shoving his tongue as far down Bill’s mouth as it would go, he began to grind his hips against the older man.

Both men moaned, muffled by their kiss, as their raging cocks met. Moving one of his hands from its place around Nick’s waist, Bill reached up and began to run his fingers through Nick’s short, black and blond hair.

Breaking their kiss, Nick began to slowly kiss his way down Bill’s cheek, until his lips met the nape of the redhead’s neck. The pleasure running through Bill’s body like lightning consumed his every thought and so he didn’t even think about the fact that Nick was in the middle of giving him a serious love bite.

Moving both of his arms to their previous position around Nick’s waist, Bill tightened his grip on the younger boy as he pushed his hips upward to meet Nick’s.

Nick stopped attacking the nape of Bill’s neck and moved upward a bit, careful not to break the contact of their midsections. Nick slowly undid the first several buttons of Bill’s robe and the shirt beneath it, as he smiled down at the redhead. His first glimpse of the rippled muscles of Bill’s chest only served to reaffirm Nick’s already passionate attraction to the older man. Nick leaned down and began to kiss and lick each muscle as Bill moaned.

Nick kissed his way up Bill’s chest, stopping to swirl his tongue on the hard nipples, before continuing up to where he had previously been attacking the older man’s neck. Nick ran his tongue over the reddened flesh, before he moved over and began to kiss Bill’s shoulder blade.

“Oh Nick, are you sure you’ve never been with anyone?” Bill asked.

“I’m sure,” Nick said as he moved to look Bill in the eyes. “Why?”

“It’s just that you seem to know all the right things to do and I just can’t help but wonder where you learned it all.”

“That’s for me to know and you to enjoy,” Nick said with a grin as he leaned down and pulled Bill into another kiss.

Bill and Nick’s antics continued for several minutes, during which time Nick marked Bill with at least three more love bites. As the two of them came, they called out the other’s name, before sealing each other in another passionate kiss.

When the kiss ended, Bill cast cleaning charms on Nick and himself, before the two of them stood up from the bed. Looking at himself in the mirror, Bill groaned and said, “Nick, not that I didn’t enjoy it, because I did, but did you have to put those love bits in places they’ll be visible? The ones on my shoulders and chest are fine because they’ll be covered by my clothes, but the other ones...”

“Well, that’s what glamour charms are for, Billy,” Nick said as he wrapped his arms around the redhead and rested his chin on his left shoulder.

“Billy?” Bill asked with a grin. “I can honestly say that nobody has ever called me that.”

“Well, you can call me Nicky if you want,” Nick said. “As long as you only do it when we’re alone, that is.”

“Well, that’s obvious,” agreed Bill. “I mean, unless we plan on telling people about us, how could I possibly explain why I call you Nicky?”

“Good point,” Nick said as he kissed the tip of Bill’s nose. “As for telling people about us, I want to, eventually. I just think that we should probably be together more then a week when we do start telling people.”

“I agree,” Bill said. “Especially since I’m a professor and you’re a student. The clause that Rowena added to the rules makes it legal, but some people will still disapprove. I’m also not entirely sure how my family will react when they find out I’m dating a Slytherin.”

“Ah, yes, the whole Gryffindor/Slytherin feud dynamic,” Nick commented with a grin. “Well, Bill, if they really love you they’ll be able to see past the fact that I’m a Slytherin. All that really matters is that you’re happy. I do make you happy right?”

“There aren’t enough words to describe how happy you make me, Nicky.”

Nick smiled at Bill and the two of them were soon in another lip lock, which both of them would agree, was their new favorite pastime. After several minutes, Bill broke the kiss.

“Tempus!” Bill said and saw that the time was 8:45 PM. “Well, I suppose you should be getting back to the dungeons now. As much as I’d love for you to spend the night, I don’t want to arouse any suspicions.”

“That’s a good idea,” Nick said. “My housemates can get very suspicious. They’d be very suspicious of Draco right now if I hadn’t helped him.”

“Draco Malfoy?”

“Yes, Draco Malfoy. The night that Ryan found out he was an heir, Rowena told him and a small group of students how to cast the Mass-Book Restoration charm on her collection. Draco was one of them, who then spent the night in Rowena’s quarters that night. I’ve become an early riser because of our morning runs, so I’m now usually the first one awake in the mornings. I saw that Draco’s bed wasn’t slept in, so since nobody else was awake yet, I messed up the bedding to make it look like it had been slept in.”

“So, is he really a different person these days?”

“I’m not really sure how to answer that, Bill. I mean, I have no experience with the Draco Malfoy of last year to go by, but as far as I can tell, he’s a good guy. Other then Blaise Zabini, Draco is the only boy in my year that I really trust. Crabbe and Goyle are as dumb as posts, but it’s obvious that they intend to become Death Eaters like their fathers. Nott is quiet and reserved, but it’s also pretty obvious that his loyalties lie with You-Know-Who.”

“Hmm, interesting; what about the sixth-year girls?”

“Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass are nice,” answered Nick. “I’ve gotten to know them pretty well and they don’t intend to become Death Eaters. Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode are a totally different story though as they both are very vocal in their support of You-Know-Who.”

“Well, that’s good to know, actually,” Bill said. “Dumbledore asked all the professors to try and put out some feelers to try and determine the loyalties of all the students, so he’ll be pleased to know that there are at least some Slytherin students who don’t support You-Know-Who. Anyway, let’s get you back to your dorm now.”

Bill and Nick shared one last kiss, before they left his quarters.

* * *

Arriving at the end of the hallway that the kitchen was in, Zacharias counted the bricks to find the one Rowena had said and then traced Helga’s initials on the brick. Ryan, Hermione, Harry, and Justin stood with baited breath, watching as the three letters began to glow on the brick, except that they were bright yellow, instead of blue like Rowena’s quarters. The sound of stone moving against stone sounded as the doorway opened and Zacharias stepped through the doorway.

Ryan, Hermione, Harry, and Justin were all a little too eager to see Helga’s quarters that they momentarily forgot the requirement that the heir invited them in and they were all abruptly stopped by an invisible barrier when they tried to cross the threshold.

“Whoops, sorry,” Zacharias said as he watched them all come to a stop and he remembered what Ryan had told him about the heir controlling access to who could and couldn’t enter the quarters. “You can all come in.”

The invisible barrier holding the four of them back immediately fell and they joined Zacharias in the common room of Helga Hufflepuff’s quarters. Several pieces of furniture, all covered with white sheets to protect them from the dust, where scattered around the room. Much like Rowena’s quarters the first time Ryan saw it, a thick layer of dust covered everything in sight and several cobwebs were visible throughout the large room.

The five students stood in silence for several minutes, just looking around at the room, before finally a female voice said, “Hello all. I’m pleased to see that someone has finally found my quarters.”

Turning around and looking above the fireplace, a life-size portrait hung on the wall depicting a woman dressed in a ninth-century yellow dress, partially covered by a black cloak. The woman was slightly heavyset and to be perfectly honest, her hairstyle made her look quite a bit like Professor Sprout.

“Helga Marie Hufflepuff, I presume?” Zacharias asked.

“You are correct, Zacharias, I am Helga Marie Hufflepuff,” Helga answered. When she saw the questioning look on the boy’s face, she added, “You all stood there looking around long enough that Rowena managed to come and fill me in.”

Zacharias nodded and smiled, as Rowena slipped into the frame beside Helga.

“My, my, this place really does need cleaning, doesn’t it?” Helga asked as she looked around. “I can scarcely believe that it’s really been so long, but Rowena tells me that it’s been over a thousand years since we died.”

“I know how you feel, Helga,” Rowena said. “I couldn’t believe it myself. With all the curtains drawn, I never was able to keep track of time, but I could hardly believe it when Ryan and Harry came to my quarters that first night and told me that it was 1996.”

“Yes, I must admit I never expected it to take that long for our descendants to find us.”

One of the reasons that Rowena Ravenclaw was so intelligent, was because she was very observant and noticing a look on Hermione’s face, she asked, “Is there something on your mind, Hermione, dear?”

“Well, it’s something I’ve been wondering for awhile now actually,” Hermione said. “How is it that you both can talk so well? What I mean is that there are words in your vocabularies that I’m sure didn’t exist over a millennium ago.”

“To be honest, I’ve been wondering the same thing,” Ryan spoke up. “I half expected you to be speaking more like the characters in Shakespeare.”

“Well, it’s quite simply really,” revealed Helga. “Along with the numerous other spells that we cast on our quarters, we also cast a charm which Rowena created. When Ryan opened the door to Rowena’s quarters, the room’s magic penetrated his brain for a moment, adding every single word in his vocabulary to Rowena’s, so that she could amend her way of speaking. The same thing happened when you opened the door to my quarters, Zacharias. The spell also does it to all the guests who are invited into the room, actually.”

“Isn’t that an invasion of privacy?”

“I don’t think it is, Justin,” Rowena said. “The spell doesn’t read your memories or thoughts, just your vocabularies. Think of your brain like a dictionary, full of countless words, their meanings, and various expressions. All the spell did was to give Helga and me access to those words and their meanings, so that we can speak to you in a way that you’ll understand. Otherwise, we probably would be speaking in a much older version of English which would be very hard for any of you to understand.”

“By the way, who is this Shakespeare you mentioned, Ryan?” Helga asked.

“Oh, I was referring to William Shakespeare,” Ryan answered. “A 16th and 17th century Muggle playwright.”

“Ah, I see,” said Helga. “Well, then, if it wasn’t for Rowena’s spell, even Shakespeare would probably have had a hard time understanding us, seeing as how Rowena and I lived in the seventh, eighth and ninth centuries.”

“You both saw the turn of the century twice?” Harry asked.

“Yes, Harry,” answered Rowena. “I was born in 680, which would have been the seventh century, and died in 867, the ninth century.”

“Same here, only I was born in 682 and died in 867,” Helga added.

The five students nodded, before Hermione sneezed because of all the dust in the room. Harry called for Dobby, much to Hermione’s disapproval.

“Of course, Harry Potter, sir,” Dobby said. “I always glad to help Harry Potter.”

Dobby then motioned that he wanted to speak to Harry privately, so Harry leaned down to hear him and Dobby said, “Though other elves won’t come. Not with her here.”

Harry obviously knew that Dobby was referring to Hermione, who all of the house-elves other than Dobby had begun to avoid like the plague, since to this day she still left clothes out, hoping to free them.

Helga and Rowena noticed the exchange between Dobby and Harry and Rowena asked, “Is something wrong, Harry?”

“No, nothing is wrong,” said Harry in an attempt to not set Hermione off on a rant about house-elves working like slaves.

“Actually, something is wrong,” Hermione said. Harry really should have known better then to think that Hermione would pass up on any opportunity to talk about S.P.E.W.

After listening to her arguments, Helga asked, “Am I correct in assuming that you’re a Muggle-born student, Hermione?”

“Yes, I am,” answered Hermione.

“That explains it then,” said Helga. “Like most Muggle-born students, you probably didn’t know that you were a witch until you got your letter, so you never grew up with the education that non-Muggle-born witches and wizards receive before entering school. As hard to believe as it may be, there are certain facts about the Wizarding World that are not covered as a part of the Hogwarts curriculum and they aren’t documented in many books, simply because it’s viewed to be such basic information that writing it in a book would be pointless.”

“I realize that you view the way magical society treats house-elves to be wrong,” Rowena added. “However, what you are failing to grasp is that to a house-elf, nothing is more enjoyable then to serve the family to which they are bound. So, by trying to free them, you are actually trying to take away what they love the most.”

“But it’s slavery! They’re on call twenty-four hours a day, they never get time off and most importantly they don’t get paid for their work.”

“That’s where you are wrong, Hermione,” said Helga. “Payment does not always come in the form of money. It can also come in the form of a roof over one’s head and food in one’s stomach, which no matter how they may treat their house-elves, all wizarding families who own them provide food and shelter to their elves.”

“Also, Hermione, I can’t believe that nobody has ever informed you,” Rowena said, “but you can leave clothes all over Gryffindor Tower until the day you graduate and you will never free any of the Hogwarts house-elves. Only their master can free them and simply being a student in this school does not make you their master. The Hogwarts elves are bound to whoever is the Head of Hogwarts, so the only person who can free the elves is Professor Dumbledore.”

“If that’s true, then why have all the other house-elves, other then Dobby who is already free, stopped cleaning Gryffindor Tower?” Hermione asked.

“Probably because they feel insulted,” Helga answered. “They’ve probably realized that you leave the clothes out hoping to free them and they’re insulted by the mere idea of being free. Honestly, though, what made you think that leaving clothes hidden around Gryffindor Tower would free the elves? Who do you think does all the laundry in this castle, Hermione? It certainly isn’t the professors or the students. The house-elves do the laundry, which means they handle hundreds of articles of clothing a day and yet they are still bound.”

“In order to free a house-elf,” Rowena added, “an article of clothing has to exchange hands between the master and the house-elf. That’s why people who own house-elves never give their dirty laundry to the elves directly, because if they did, they’d unintentionally free them. As long as the clothing doesn’t go directly from the master’s hand into the elf’s hand, the binding is not broken.”

“I still say that its slavery and it needs to stop!” Hermione insisted. “The Wizarding World is stuck in the Dark Ages and it’s time that it came into the twentieth century.”

Hoping to change the subject before Hermione really lost her cool, Harry pointed at a pair of doors at one end of the room, and asked, “What’s through there?”

The doors in question were made of stained glass, depicting a truly beautiful garden scene.

“Oh that leads to my pride and joy,” Helga answered, “my private greenhouse. It’s a highly magical room, similar to Rowena’s library, only it deals with plants instead of books.”

“What does it do?” Zacharias asked, highly intrigued by what he’d be able to do, after being totally in awe of the special room in Rowena’s quarters that Ryan got to use.

“I spent the better part of thirty years charming that room,” Helga said, “but I finally got it right. The charms on that room will allow any plant to grow from seed to maturity in a matter of minutes. The room is also useful because it is capable of growing any plant that has ever existed, even if the plant has been extinct since the time of the dinosaurs.”

“That would have come in handy during second year,” Justin said. “I certainly would have had a lot less make up work to do if Professor Sprout could have grown the mandrakes for the Mandrake Restorative Draft in minutes, instead of months.”

“Yes, that would be one good use of the room,” Helga confirmed. “Salazar also loved it because I was able to supply him with all of the rare plants used as potions ingredients that he needed. Using some of the plants that have been extinct for ages, he was even able to come up with several of his own potions recipes. Unfortunately, Salazar was a very private man and he never shared the recipes he created with anyone, so I fear many of his extremely useful creations died with him.”

“What kinds of potions did Salazar create?” Harry asked.

“Well, I told you about the potion used to help Muggle-borns reach their full power potential faster,” Rowena said. “He also created a non-addictive variant of the Dreamless Sleep potion and if I remember correctly, just before he died, he was working on a potion which he thought would be able to cure lycanthropy, but I think he died before finishing it.”

“Yes, he was working on that potion actually,” confirmed Helga. “He thought he needed several extinct plants and herbs to make the potion work, so he was often asking me to grow them for him in large quantities.”

‘Wow,’ Harry thought. ‘I hope that we find Slytherin’s quarters soon, because if he really was nearing being able to cure lycanthropy, then that means that Professor Lupin could be cured. If I could help with that, I wouldn’t even care if I turned out to be Slytherin’s heir.’

* * *

To be continued...


	18. Chapter 18

Harry Potter and the Return of the Heirs  
By J.C. Vascardi

* * *  
Chapter Eighteen  
* * *

It was Saturday, the 26th of October. The Halloween Ball was fast approaching and almost everyone in the fifth, sixth, and seventh years of Hogwarts were going to Hogsmeade today to buy their clothes for the dance. Many of them had wanted to do it last weekend, but Death Eater attacks had delayed several shipments to the various shops in Hogsmeade. This weekend wasn’t even supposed to be a Hogsmeade weekend, but because of the shipping delays and the upcoming dance, Professor Dumbledore decided to make it one, but only for the fifth year and above students.

The only difference this time was that he was only sending two groups of ten students at a time down to the village, each escorted by four professors and one of the head students. Dumbledore made it crystal clear that everyone in each group was to stick together like glue and that any student who was found to have wondered off on their own would have their Hogsmeade privileges suspended, 200 points taken from their house and would receive a month of detention.

It was in this way that young Harry Potter found himself going down to Hogsmeade, accompanied by Ryan Cromwell, Nick Delaney, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Hermione Granger, Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy, Susan Bones, Tracey Davis, and Daphne Greengrass. Head Boy Adrian Pucey and Professors Angelique Byrne, Bill Weasley, Valen Lasinius, and Minerva McGonagall escorted the group.

The other group going down to the village at the same time consisted of Colin Creevey, Ginny Weasley, Hannah Abbott, Seamus Finnegan, Dean Thomas, Kevin Entwhistle, Stephen Cornfoot, Wayne Hopkins, and Padma and Parvati Patil. The second groups’ escorts were Head Girl Katie Bell and Professors Matthew Cromwell, Oliver Wood, Filius Flitwick, and Pomona Sprout.

While the second group went to Honeydukes Sweetshop, the first group went to Gladrags Wizardwear. Professor Dumbledore had informed the proprietress of the shop ahead of time about the Halloween Ball, and she in turn ordered a wide selection of the very latest styles of formal attire.

“There really is a good selection,” Draco commented as he eyed the racks. “I thought for sure I wouldn’t find anything suitable, but I admit I’m pleasantly surprised.”

“Same here,” Blaise said as he held a black robe with green and silver accents in front of him and looked at it in the mirror. “What do you think, Drake?”

Looking at his friend’s reflection, Draco nodded approvingly and then picked up a nearly identical ensemble for himself, seeing as how Blaise was his date for the ball. The difference was that Draco’s robe was green, with black trim and silver accents.

Hermione was having a hard time picking something out. She saw several very lovely dresses that she really would have liked, but they were all outside of her price range. When she found out about the ball, she wrote home and her parents sent her fifty pounds, which converted to ten Galleons, to spend on a dress. Hermione had an additional five Galleons and ten Sickles saved, but even with the ten Galleons from her parents, she couldn’t afford any of the dresses that she really liked.

Draco noticed the look on her face and asked, “Is something wrong, Hermione?”

“Oh, well, it’s just that I’m having a hard time picking something,” Hermione said. “There’s so much to choose from and all the dresses I really like are too expensive.”

“Hmm, how much do you have?” Draco asked, as he eyed the rack of dresses with a critical eye.

“Well, my parents sent me ten Galleons for a dress,” Hermione answered. “Added to the money I had left over from buying school supplies this year and I have fifteen Galleons and ten Sickles.”

“Hmm,” Draco said as he continued to peruse the rack, “What’s Weasley going to wear?”

“I have no idea,” Hermione said, honestly. “I broke up with him almost two weeks ago, so I’m not going to the dance with him.”

“You broke up with Ron?” Bill asked. “Why, Hermione?”

“He’s been acting like a jerk lately,” Hermione said. “He’s mad because Harry befriended Draco and has not only been giving Harry the silent treatment, but has made a point to leave the room when Harry comes in.”

“You broke up with your boyfriend because of me?” Draco asked.

“I suppose you could say that,” Hermione answered, “but I think it was bound to happen eventually anyway. Until Ron grows up and learns to control his temper and not act like a sulking little kid every time he doesn’t get his way, I’m afraid I can’t be with him.”

“If I know my brother,” Bill said, “you may be waiting awhile, Hermione.”

“So, who are you going to the dance with then?” Draco asked.

“Harry,” Hermione said. “We’re just going as friends. I’ve been giving him dancing lessons.”

“Ouch,” Bill said, as he winced.

“Is something wrong, Bill?” Valen asked.

“No, nothings wrong,” Bill said. “It’s just that over the summer I tried giving Harry dancing lessons and I was just remembering how much my feet hurt after being stepped on too many times.”

Hermione heard the comment and then explained about the charm that Rowena had taught her.

“Hmm, wish I had known that spell over the summer,” Bill commented. “I wouldn’t have needed to brew nearly as much Pain-Relieving potion.”

Thankfully, Harry was on the other side of the shop with some of the other students, so he was out of earshot and didn’t hear this conversation.

“I think this one would look great on you, Hermione,” Draco said as he pulled a flowing light blue silk dress with dark blue trim and gold accents from the rack.

“Yes, that was one of my favorites,” Hermione agreed. “Only problem is that it costs twenty-five Galleons.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” Draco said. “Give me the ten Galleons that your parents sent and I’ll cover the rest. That way you’ll still have some spending money if you see anything in the other shops you want.”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” Hermione said.

“I won’t take no for an answer, Hermione,” Draco said. “So, we can stand here and argue about it until the shop closes, but you’re not going to change my mind.”

“Oh come on, Granger,” Tracey Davis spoke up. “If Draco wants to do it, let him. It’s not as if he can’t afford it.”

“I can vouch for that,” Ryan said as he walked over. “I saw the inside of Draco’s vault. He’s got to be one of the richest wizards in the country.”

“Well, all right,” Hermione said as she opened her coin purse and counted out ten Galleons which she then handed to Draco, “but I insist on paying you back.”

“That’s fine, Hermione,” Draco said with a smile as he took both Hermione’s dress and his new robe over to the proprietress.

* * *

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the world, a man wearing ocean blue robes stood outside a pair of elaborate doors. The man was tall and thin, with long blond hair and emerald green eyes.  
Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice when the guard walked up to him, until the guard cleared his throat and said, “Excuse me, my Lordship, but His Majesty will see you now.”

“Thank you,” the man known as his Supreme Lordship said as he entered the elaborate doors leading to the royal throne room.

“Ah, it is good to see you, my friend,” the young man on the throne said.

“And you too, Your Majesty,” his Supreme Lordship said as he bowed to his King.

“I wanted you to know that I’ve cleared your journey to Hogwarts,” the King said. “My son is prepared to fill your position in the Circle until your return and his wife will fill your wife’s position.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“I’m only sorry that I couldn’t have done it sooner,” the King said. “But, as you well know, I couldn’t help you until I had the power of the throne behind me.”

“Yes, I know, Your Majesty,” his Supreme Lordship said. “I am sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you. That means a lot coming from you, considering how my father treated you. I tried to get him to change his mind considering that you are family, but you knew my father. Once he made up his mind, there was no changing it.”

“Yes, Your Majesty, he was a...”

“It’s perfectly fine with me if you call him what he was,” the young King said with a smile. “He was a tyrant.”

“I would never presume to say such things, Your Majesty.”

“I know. At any rate, my friend, I wish you and your wife a safe journey,” the King said.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” his Supreme Lordship said, as he again bowed to his King, before leaving the throne room to go and inform his wife that they should begin packing for their journey to Hogwarts.

* * *

After finishing up at Gladrags Wizardwear, Harry’s group went over to the Three Broomsticks for lunch. Just as the group sat down at a large table, however, all Hell broke loose. Explosions and screaming from the street outside could only mean one thing.

“It’s the Death Eaters!” A portly man shouted as he ran into the inn, confirming the worst fears of everyone present. “And they’ve got the Dementors with them!”

The Professors with the group immediately jumped up from their seats and ran outside to help defend the town, leaving the students in the Head Boy’s care.

“Somebody should get word up to the castle,” Hermione said.

“And how are we supposed to do that?” Nick asked. “It’s not as if the Death Eaters won’t notice somebody trying to run up to the school.”

“Well, I’m sure Madame Rosemerta has a fireplace connected to the Floo Network,” Hermione said.

Adrian motioned for the ten students under his care to follow him and they went over to talk to the distraught tavern keeper. Adrian talked to her in hushed tones for a moment, before she nodded and led them behind the bar and through the door to her office.

Adrian asked Madame Rosemerta to make sure none of the students left the room while he was talking to Dumbledore and he then grabbed the pouch of Floo powder and threw some into the flames as he shouted, “Hogwarts, Headmaster’s office,” before sticking his head into the flames.

Moments later, the fireplace in Dumbledore’s office whooshed into life and Adrian’s head appeared in the flames.

“Is something wrong, Mr. Pucey?” Dumbledore asked when he saw the face of the Head Boy in his fire.

“It’s the Death Eaters, sir,” Adrian answered. “They’re attacking Hogsmeade.”

“What of the students?”

“I don’t know about the other group, but the students in my group are with me in Madame Rosemerta’s office. The professors are outside helping to defend the town.”

“Thank you for contacting me, Mr. Pucey,” Dumbledore said. “I’ll do my best to get reinforcements to Hogsmeade as soon as possible.”

“Professor, you should also know that the Dementors are here. I don’t know how many the Death Eaters brought with them, but shortly after the attack began someone ran into the Three Broomsticks and said that the Death Eaters had the Dementors with them.”

“Thank you, Mr. Pucey.”

Adrian nodded before extracting his head from the flames. Turning to the group in the room with him, he said, “Professor Dumbledore said he’ll send help as soon as possible.”

Looking out the window of Madame Rosemerta’s office, Ryan gasped and said, “Oh my Gods. I’m sure this isn’t the best vantage point of the street, but there’s got to be at least twenty Dementors out there that I can see.”

“Shouldn’t we try and help?” Harry asked. “Dumbledore said he’d send help, but we don’t know how many Dementors are loose out there, not to mention the number of Death Eaters.”

“We’re staying here, Mr. Potter,” Adrian said. “If I let any of you outside to fight I’ll be in deep trouble.”

“Pucey, we can all take care of ourselves,” Draco said. “We’re all in Dumbledore’s Defense Arts class and we’ve all mastered the Patronus Charm. At the very least we should send our Patronusses out to help drive the Dementors off.”

Adrian hesitated for a moment before he nodded and lead the group out of the office and to the front door of the Three Broomsticks. Wrapping an arm around Hermione’s waist he went into the doorway and said, “When I open the door, conjure your Patronus and I’ll cover you.”

Hermione nodded her understanding and as Adrian opened the door of the Inn, he shot off two Stunners in rapid succession at two nearby Death Eaters as Hermione pointed her wand outside and said, “Expecto Patronum,” as a silvery otter leapt forth from her wand and joined in the battle outside.

Closing the door, Adrian grabbed his girlfriend Daphne’s hand and opened the door, shooting off another Stunner as Daphne’s poodle Patronus charged towards the nearest Dementor.

Adrian repeated the process until Harry’s stag, Tracey’s gazelle, Susan’s badger, Draco’s snow leopard, Blaise’s tiger, Nick’s snake, Ryan’s eagle, and Justin’s horse were all outside helping to drive off the Dementors. Just before closing the door the final time, Adrian sent his own kangaroo Patronus outside.

The next half an hour felt like an eternity, as they listened to the screams outside. Finally, the screams stopped and Professor McGonagall walked into the Three Broomsticks.

“The attack has been lifted,” McGonagall said. “Thankfully, someone got word to Professor Dumbledore and reinforcements arrived.”

“That was me, Professor,” Adrian said. “Miss Granger said that we should get word up to the castle and suggested we use Madame Rosemerta’s fireplace, so I Floo called the Headmaster.”

“Thank you, Mr. Pucey,” McGonagall said, as she got a thoughtful look on her face. “I take it you all were also responsible for all the Patronusses that I saw come out of here?”

“Yes, Professor,” Adrian confirmed. “Mr. Malfoy suggested that if they couldn’t go out to fight, that they should at least send their Patronusses to help with the Dementors. So, I provided each of them cover as they sent them out the door.”

“Good job, everyone,” McGonagall said. “The extra Patronusses certainly helped with the Dementors and made the battle outside a lot easier, so 50 points to Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin.”

“How’s the other group, Professor?” Ryan asked.

“They’re fine,” answered McGonagall. “The professors with the other group got them all safely inside Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop with Miss Bell, before joining the battle themselves.”

“Were any of the Death Eaters caught?” Harry asked.

“A few, but none in the inner circle, unfortunately,” replied McGonagall. “Anyway, Professor Dumbledore has ordered everyone back up to the castle now. The Aurors are here and have taken the captured Death Eaters into custody.”

The ten students and the Head Boy nodded to the Deputy Headmistress, before following her out of the Three Broomsticks and back up to the castle.

* * *

To be continued...


	19. Chapter 19

Harry Potter and the Return of the Heirs  
By J.C. Vascardi

* * *  
Chapter Nineteen  
* * *

The day had finally arrived: Thursday, October 31, 1996. The Halloween Ball was taking place after the feast. Professor Dumbledore cancelled classes for the day, as he knew that the majority of the students wouldn’t be concentrating on their classes anyway. The Headmaster also cancelled the weekly meeting of the Defense Arts group, considering that all of the students would be at the Ball instead.

The annual Halloween feast went off without any problems thankfully. No professors running in yelling about a troll in the dungeon or anything else out of the ordinary. Professor Dumbledore stood and dismissed everyone from the Great Hall, stating that the fifth year and older students should return in an hour’s time for the Ball, while the younger students should get ready for their own parties.

In the sixth-year Slytherin girl’s dormitories, the girls were all getting ready for the Ball, although Pansy Parkinson was livid.

“What does Draco think he’s doing?” she practically yelled as she sat in front of a mirror fixing her hair. “How could he possibly want to take Blaise to the Ball instead of me?”

“I’m going to take a wild guess here,” Tracey said, “but maybe it’s because he’s gay?”

“I still don’t believe that for a second.”

“Then you are delusional, Pansy,” Daphne said. “You know that Adrian is my boyfriend and he tells me everything. If you don’t believe that Draco is gay after the Virginitas charm revealed that he lost his virginity to Blaise and he admitted being gay under the influence of Veritaserum, you really are delusional.”

“I’m afraid, Pansy, I have to agree with Daphne,” Tracey said.

“You’re awfully quiet, Millie,” Pansy said as she turned to look at Millicent Bulstrode. “What do you think?”

“I’m inclined to agree with Tracey and Daphne,” Millicent answered. “You saw Draco and Blaise kiss in the common room, along with half of our house. To be honest, that was enough proof for me that Draco was gay, but with the Virginitas charm and Veritaserum confirming it, I don’t see how there is any room for doubt about Draco’s gayness.”

“How do I know that it was really Veritaserum that Adrian gave Draco?” Pansy asked. “I mean, when brewed properly, Veritaserum is as clear as water. How do I know that Adrian didn’t just put three drops of water in their mouths and they then pretended to be under the influence of Veritaserum?”

“You’re grasping at straws, Pansy,” Tracey said. “The sooner you admit that Draco doesn’t want you, the better off you’ll be.”

“Tracey is right, Pansy,” Millicent said. “You’d be better off giving up on Draco. I know not all of the pureblood families believe in the whole virginity thing, but I do know that your parents will never let you marry Draco now that he’s no longer a virgin.”

“Like I care what my parents think,” Pansy said.

“Pansy,” Daphne said, “you know the penalty for going against them on something as serious as this. They will blast your name off the family tree and disown you. And you’re a girl, so you know that Wizarding law will favor your older brother when your parents die. Which means you’ll be lucky to get enough money to buy a candy bar at Honeydukes.”

“I don’t care!” Pansy shouted. “Draco is worth it! Besides, why do I care if I don’t get any of my family’s money? Draco’s family is loaded and he’s the only heir.”

“Stop embarrassing yourself,” a voice said.

“Who said that?” Pansy asked, as she recognized the voice, sounding quite a bit like her own, but she knew that she didn’t say anything.

“I did,” the voice said again and Pansy realized it was her reflection in the mirror talking.

“See, Pansy?” Tracey asked, as she pointed at the magical mirror. “Even your reflection thinks you should give up on Draco.”

“No!” Pansy shouted. “I will never give up on Draco. We are destined to be together and I don’t care what I have to do! We will be together!”

Pansy’s reflection rolled its eyes at her and the other three girls in the room finished getting ready for the Ball and left the room, wanting to put as much distance between themselves and Pansy as possible, considering that she was obviously crazy in addition to being totally delusional.

* * *

“Kev, Steve, please tell me you two are not seriously thinking about going to the Ball that way?” Ryan asked, as he finished combing his hair and turned away from the mirror.

“What do you mean?” Kevin asked, as he looked down at his robes with a confused look on his face.

“Is there something wrong with our attire?” Stephen asked, as he did the same thing as his boyfriend.

“Well, I guess not,” said Ryan as he looked at his two housemates. “Though I’m sure you probably will be the only boys at the Ball wearing pink dress robes.”

“What’s wrong with pink?” Stephen asked.

“Nothing is wrong with pink,” Ryan said, “I just can’t say as I would ever wear it to a formal event.”

“I’m going to have to agree with Ryan,” said Terry.

“What do you think, Tony, Mike?” Kevin asked.

“I’m staying out of it,” Anthony answered, as he sat down on his bed and began tying his shoes.

“I think you look ridiculous,” Michael replied, “but it’s up to you. If you two want to wear matching pink robes, then I won’t stop you.”

“I won’t stop you either,” Terry said, “but I will say that I think you should consider something a bit less colorful.”

“I don’t see why people think guys shouldn’t wear pink,” Stephen said.

“I’m not saying that guys shouldn’t wear pink,” Ryan said. “I happen to have three pink shirts that I wear fairly regularly, but I just don’t think it’s appropriate for a formal event.”

“Straight guys,” Kevin muttered. “They have no sense of style.”

Ryan started laughing, causing Kevin and Stephen to look at him as if he’d gone crazy.

Stephen asked, “What?”

“Oh come on,” Anthony said as he stood up. “You two really need to take a break from snogging each other’s brains out every now and then. If you did, you would know that Ryan has been dating Justin Finch-Fletchley from Hufflepuff for weeks now.”

“Is that true, Ryan?” Kevin asked.

“Yes, Kevin, it’s true,” answered Ryan as he stopped laughing. “I’m just as gay as you and Stephen, and I still think that you two shouldn’t wear pink to a formal event, but if you really want to, then go ahead.”

“Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad,” Michael said, “if you still wore pink, but less of it. Do you guys have any dress robes that aren’t entirely pink?”

“Yes,” Kevin said as he walked over to his wardrobe and pulled out a dark blue robe with pink trim.

“That looks better,” Ryan said.

Kevin and Stephen changed into the different robes and then Stephen asked, “Happy now?”

“You do look much better now,” Michael said. “I was trying to be nice, but those other robes really looked too feminine; solid pink? Not to mention the fact that if you had just added a bit of lace they would have looked more like a dress than a robe.”

The five Ravenclaw boys finished getting ready for the ball, before they left their dorm to go and collect their dates. Well, except for Kevin and Stephen obviously, since they were each other’s dates.

* * *

Harry’s Journal – Thursday, October 31, 1996

The Halloween Ball will be starting in fifteen minutes. I suppose I really shouldn’t be writing this right now. I should go down to the common room, meet Hermione, and then go down to the Great Hall. I’m still worried about how Ron will react when he finds out that I’m taking Hermione to the ball. I just hope that he doesn’t do anything stupid.

I’ve been hearing rumors lately that Draco is taking Blaise Zabini to the ball. Despite our newfound friendship, I’d be lying if I said I knew everything there is to know about him, and I certainly never would have pegged him as being gay. Too bad he’s with Blaise, because I don’t think I’d mind dating him myself. Not that the Ice Prince of Slytherin would ever lower himself to date me, even if he is willing to be friends with me.

Oh well, I should get going. The ball starts in ten minutes and I’m sure Hermione is starting to get impatient, wondering what’s taking me so long.

* * *

As the fifth-year and older students gathered in the hallway outside the Great Hall, it was clear that everyone was excited about the festivities. Even after the attack on Hogsmeade over the weekend, the closest to Hogwarts any of the Death Eater attacks had come, the student body was determined to put the war out of their minds tonight and have fun.

At the stroke of seven, the doors to the Great Hall opened and Professor Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey appeared in the doorway.

“Welcome students to the Halloween Ball,” Dumbledore said.

“If you will please line up next to your partners,” Pomfrey said, “and then follow us into the Hall.”

All the students lined up next to their partners as Dumbledore and Pomfrey turned and lead the group through the massive doors into the Great Hall. Only, it was different because instead of seeing the Great Hall upon stepping through the door, the students instead saw a long hallway. Black linen draped the walls and suits of armor from all over the world and many different periods rested on pedestals along the entire length of the hallway.

The students stared in wonder at the collection of armor and weapons on display, as their two Professors walked silently down the hall to the large doors at the other end. Reaching the doors, Dumbledore and Pomfrey turned to the students behind them and Dumbledore said, “Eat, drink, dance, and be afraid, be very afraid.”

If it wasn’t for the twinkling in Dumbledore’s eyes and the smile on his face as he said it, some of the students might have actually been scared, but they knew that he was only saying it because it was Halloween.

Dumbledore and Pomfrey turned towards the doors as they opened and they lead the group into a large room, very different from the Great Hall that the students had gotten to know so well during their time at Hogwarts.

Directly ahead was a massive stone fireplace, flanked on either side by several French doors, covered in blood red draperies. Instead of stone, the floor was now white marble, with a highly intricate inlay of the Hogwarts coat of arms in the center of the floor. Numerous groupings of candles floated in mid-air throughout the room. On the far end of the room, a marble staircase lead up to a landing on which rested a large pipe organ, with two more stairways wrapping around it on either side.

On the other end of the room, opposite the organ, a long table of food and drinks was set out, along with several round tables, so that the students could sit down and rest. The length of the room, though, left more then enough space between the tables on one end and the organ on the other for a large dance floor.

As the last of the students filed into the room, the large doors slammed shut and the enchanted ceiling, the one thing in the room that still looked the same as the Great Hall, burst into life with a display of orange and black fireworks. As the fireworks display ended, what seemed like every ghost who inhabited the castle, and perhaps a few that didn’t, appeared and began dancing, as the organ began playing by itself.

The ghosts waltzed around the room to the organ music for a few minutes, before they disappeared and Dumbledore turned towards the organ and raised his hands.

“And now, let the Ball begin!” he shouted as a shower of orange and black sparks shot forth from his hands and a stage rose up from the staircase in front of the organ, as the Weird Sisters began playing one of their latest hits.

The students applauded and soon everyone was out on the dance floor. The other professors, who had remained unseen before now, seemed to suddenly appear. Every Hogwarts professor, with the notable exceptions of the four Heads of House, was present. Though, that was most likely because the Heads of House had stayed to keep an eye on the younger students partying in their common rooms.

After two dances, Harry and Hermione stepped off the dance floor and took a seat at one of the empty tables.

“Your dancing has vastly improved,” Hermione said.

“Because of you, Hermione,” Harry said. “I’d still be hopeless if not for your help.”

“Well, you give me too much credit,” Hermione said. “You really weren’t all that bad when I started. Bill may have gotten his feet stepped on fairly often, but he must have taught you something.”

“Yes, Harry can be a bit hard on himself,” Bill said as he walked over with Valen Lasinius on his arm.

“Hello Professor Weasley,” Hermione said, “Professor Lasinius.”

“Hello, Hermione,” Bill said, as Valen nodded.

“Decided not to bring a certain black and blond haired person as your date, Bill?” Harry asked.

“Well, Harry, Nick and I have only been together a couple of weeks now,” responded Bill. “We both decided that it was too soon to make our relationship public knowledge, so Valen agreed to be my escort this evening. I believe Nick is escorting Tracey Davis this evening.”

“Not jealous about that are you?” Harry asked. “I do seem to recall Nick telling me that he’s bisexual.”

“Harry,” Bill said, “no, I’m not jealous of Nick and Tracey. I trust Nick enough to not think that he’s going to spend one night with her at the Ball and decide he’d rather be with her, instead of me.”

“I know, Bill,” Harry said with a grin. “I’m just messing with you.”

“Oh you little,” Bill said as he returned the grin. “What did I ever see in you?”

“You mean besides my dashing good looks?” Harry asked with a dumb grin on his face as Bill just chuckled.

“I take it that you and Harry were together at some point, Bill?” Valen asked.

“Yes, before school started,” confirmed Bill. “I broke it off though once school started, since Harry is only sixteen.”

Valen nodded, “Well, I must say, Bill, you do have good taste. First Harry and now Nick, yes, you definitely have good taste. I only wish that I had known that Nick was turning seventeen soon, because maybe I could have beaten you to him.”

At the look that Bill gave his fellow professor, Valen chuckled and said, “I’m only kidding, Bill. Nick isn’t really my type.”

“And what exactly is your type, Professor?” Hermione asked.

“We’re not in class, so please, call me Valen. As for my type, well, I’ve always been partial to brown hair and gray eyes.”

“Males or females?” Harry asked.

“Oh males definitely,” Valen answered. “No offense meant to present company,” Valen smiled at Hermione, “but the female physique has never done anything for me.”

“None taken, Valen,” Hermione said with a smile.

“So, is there any particular reason that you chose to bring Valen tonight, Bill?” Harry asked.

“Well, Harry, I should think it’s obvious,” Bill said. “Of all the people on staff, Valen is the only one close to my age, well, other than Matthew and Oliver, but they’re engaged, so I wasn’t about to ask one of them. After that the next person closest to my age would be Professor Snape and I wouldn’t ask him out if he was the last man on the planet.”

“I’d have to agree with you there,” Harry said.

“Well, we’re supposed to be chaperoning here, Bill,” Valen said. “So, we should probably mingle.”

“Yes, you’re right, Valen,” Bill said as he smiled at Harry and Hermione. “Nice chatting with you two.”

“Do you feel strange in class?” Hermione asked once Bill and Valen were gone. “I mean, since you’ve been with him and all?”

“Sometimes, yes,” Harry said. “It’s hard not to think about it, you know? I mean, he was my first, so they say you never forget your first time.”

Hermione nodded, as Harry stood and held out a hand to Hermione, before the two of them returned to the dance floor.

* * *

Ryan and Justin happily danced in each other’s arms for several dances, before they snuck off for a little private time. As many other students had noticed, the French doors on one side of the room lead to a terrace, which everybody was sure they’d never seen at Hogwarts before. The terrace was very romantic though, with numerous places for couples to sit down and have some private time away from the crowd in the Hall.

“The professors certainly went all out with the decorations,” Justin said, as he sat down on a stone bench with Ryan. “I can’t believe they totally transformed the Great Hall in only an hour.”

“Well, magic can do a lot of cool things,” Ryan said. “Although, somehow, I get the feeling that Rowena and Helga may have had a hand in the decorations. I can’t be sure, of course, but it’s just a feeling I got.”

“Yeah,” Justin said. “I’ve never seen the professors decorate quite so elaborately. Even for the Yule Ball, during fourth year, and the decorations then were quite spectacular. You could tell that you were still in the Great Hall though, where as tonight, it looks like a totally different room.”

“That’s because it is,” Matthew said, as he and Oliver walked over to Ryan and Justin.

“Hey Matt,” Ryan said, “Hey Oliver. What do you mean it’s a different room?”

“Well, would you believe,” commented Oliver, “that despite what it seems like, we are not actually outdoors right now?”

“We aren’t?” Justin asked, confused.

“Nope, we’re not,” confirmed Oliver. “We’re actually in the Room of Requirement. Professor Dumbledore used a spell which basically turned the doors of the Great Hall into a portal to the Room of Requirement, which was then designed to look like a certain room that Ryan really should recognize.”

Ryan cocked his head at Oliver and thought for a moment, before his expression changed and he suddenly said, “Oh my Gods, I can’t believe I didn’t recognize it before now.”

“Recognize what, Ryan?” Justin asked.

“That hallway with the armor, the ballroom itself, this terrace,” Ryan said, “it’s like a copy of the Grand Ballroom at Cromwell Hall. With the exception of the house banners, the enchanted ceiling, and the Hogwarts coat of arms on the floor, it’s exactly the same.”

“How did the professors decorate that way?” Justin asked.

“Professor Dumbledore asked all the professors for decorating ideas for the Ball,” Matthew revealed. “I gave him some pictures of Cromwell Hall as a suggestion, and I guess he liked it so much that he ran with it. I can only assume that it would have been too much work to re-configure the Great Hall in an hour’s time, so he setup the Room of Requirement.”

“Wow, it’s amazing,” said Justin. “So, this is a copy of your family estate?”

“Yeah, it’s so real that I almost can’t believe that I’m still at Hogwarts.”  
“Same here, Matt,” Ryan said.

Ryan, Justin, Matt, and Oliver continued to chat for several minutes, before both couples went back into the main room for another dance.

* * *

Professor Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey were resting at one of the tables, having just danced several dances in a row. They didn’t really advertise it, but the two were romantically involved. It’s really the only reason the nurse was a bit more lenient on allowing Dumbledore into the Hospital Wing, when she wouldn’t allow anyone else. People usually assume that it’s because he’s the Headmaster, but that certainly wasn’t the case.

“Oh Albus, I’m glad you convinced me to host the Ball with you,” Pomfrey said. “It feels good to get out of the Hospital Wing and relax.”

When Dumbledore didn’t answer, Pomfrey placed a hand on his and said, “Albus? Albus are you okay?”

“The wards,” Dumbledore said suddenly.

“What about them?” Pomfrey asked.

“Somebody is breaching the wards,” Dumbledore said.

“Are you sure?” Pomfrey asked, horrified at the thought.

Dumbledore never got the chance to answer though, as the doors of the Hall suddenly burst open and a strong wind blew through the room, upsetting the house banners hanging from the ceiling and the draperies on the windows.

Dumbledore was on his feet at once as all the lights went off and suddenly there was a loud bang as what looked like a bolt of lighting struck the floor, causing an inferno of green flames to burst forth from the Hogwarts coat of arms. As the lights came back on, the flames disappeared. Standing where the flames had been, a man and a woman, both wearing ocean blue robes and possessing an otherworldly appearance, were now visible.

Before Dumbledore could reach the newcomers, Professor Valen Lasinius was standing in front of them with his hands on his hips and said in a voice that was easily heard throughout the quiet Hall, “Corelian, you old fool, you always did have a flair for the dramatic.”

* * *

To be continued...


	20. Chapter 20

Harry Potter and the Return of the Heirs  
By J.C. Vascardi

* * *  
Chapter Twenty  
* * *

“Corelian, you old fool, you always did have a flair for the dramatic,” Valen said. “Although, I wish you hadn’t chosen now to display that, because these people are at war and you probably just scared them all half to death!”

“Professor Lasinius, do you know these people?” Dumbledore asked as he came up to the group.

“Yes, sir, I know them,” Valen said. “This is my sister and my overly dramatic brother-in-law.”

“You must be Albus Dumbledore,” Corelian said.

“Yes, I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts and you are?”

“Oh where are my manners?” Corelian asked. “Corelian Anilus Laitannen, Supreme Lord of the Circle of Atlantis at your service. And this is my wife, Lady Asheera Liana Lasinius-Laitannen.”

“You’re from Atlantis?” Dumbledore asked.

“Yes,” Corelian confirmed. “Contrary to popular belief, the Kingdom of Atlantis was not destroyed when it sank beneath the ocean. My ancestors sank the kingdom on purpose, to hide it from prying Muggle eyes.”

“Am I to assume that Professor Lasinius is Atlantean as well?” Dumbledore asked.

“Yes, I am,” confirmed Valen as he quickly spun a full three hundred and sixty degrees and the glamour charms that had been hiding his true appearance vanished. Valen’s hair grew about a foot and turned from black to blond, as his blue eyes turned green and his ears reformed to form sharp points.

The rest of the room gasped at their Professor’s transformation, having never guessed for a second that he had been using glamour charms.

“Is there someplace that we can talk?” Corelian asked.

“Of course,” Dumbledore said. “Follow me.”  
Corelian nodded as he and his wife followed Dumbledore out of the room. Corelian exchanged a glance with Valen as he left, who nodded, knowing what he was supposed to do.

* * *

Arriving in Dumbledore’s office, Dumbledore took a seat behind his desk and conjured chairs for his guests. He was still a little too shell-shocked by their unexpected appearance to make the normal offer of tea or lemon drops.

“So, why has Professor Lasinius been teaching here in disguise?” Professor Dumbledore asked, as his guests sat down.

“That’s quite simple, really,” answered Corelian. “He was here on my request.”

“And what was the purpose of that request?” Dumbledore prodded.

“To keep an eye on my step-son,” Asheera answered, speaking for the first time.

“Your step-son is a student, here?” Dumbledore asked.

“Yes, my son is indeed a student here,” answered Corelian. “His name is Kyrian Corelian Laitannen.”

“There is no student by that name that I’m aware of.”

“Well, of course, you wouldn’t know him by his Atlantean name,” Corelian elaborated.

“Then by what name would I know him by?” Dumbledore asked.

“I believe you know my son as Ryan Cole Cromwell,” Corelian answered.

“You’re my father?” a voice asked from the doorway and Corelian stood to see Ryan standing there, along with Valen and Justin.

“Yes, Ryan, I am your father,” replied Corelian.

* * *

“This has certainly been an eventful night,” Bill said as he sat down outside on the terrace with Matthew and Oliver.

“Yes, it has been,” agreed Oliver. “And now it seems you’ve been dumped Bill.”

“Well, Valen and I only friends,” Bill said. “So, I’m not going to hold it against him that he ran out of here but I just wonder why he took Ryan and Justin with him.”

Oliver nodded and then looking at Matthew, he noticed the strange look on his fiancé’s face. Cupping Matthew’s cheek, he asked, “Is something wrong, Matt?”

“No, nothing is wrong,” said Matthew as he smiled at Oliver. “I just can’t believe he’s come back after all these years.”

“Who are you talking about?” Bill asked.

“Corelian Laitannen,” Matthew answered.

“You know him?” Oliver asked.

“Yes, I know him,” Matthew confirmed. “I haven’t seen him since shortly after Ryan was born. I was only four at the time, but I still remember Corelian. I should probably contact my father. He’ll want to know that Corelian is back.”

“Matt, honey who is Corelian?” Oliver asked.

“He’s Ryan’s father,” Matthew revealed. “He was madly in love with my Aunt Alexandra and they were going to be married. I was supposed to be the ring bearer in the wedding. Then Aunt Alexandra had Ryan two weeks before the wedding and died. Within a week, Corelian had left him in the care of my grandparents and had gone back to Atlantis.”

“So he just left his newborn son?” Bill asked.

“I don’t think he had a choice in the matter,” Matthew answered. “I don’t know all of the details, but all I remember is a message arriving from Atlantis, ordering Corelian to return immediately and to leave Ryan in England.”

“Hmm,” Oliver said. “Well, should we go and contact your father?”

“Yeah, we should,” answered Matthew. “I’m not sure where he might be though right now. What with all the Death Eater attacks recently, I imagine he hasn’t been spending very much time at the house.

“Well, you could always send him an owl,” Bill said. “It’ll take a little bit longer, but the owl will definitely find him.”

“Good idea, Bill,” Matthew said as he stood up. “I’m going to go up to the Owlery. You two stay here and have fun at the Ball, I’ll be back soon.”

* * *

“Where have you been all these years?” Ryan asked. “Why were you never around when I was growing up?”

“Valid questions,” Corelian answered, as he waved his hand and conjured three more chairs. “If you’ll have a seat, I will do my best to explain.”

Ryan, his hand clamped tightly by Justin’s, walked silently over to one of the chairs and sat down.

“First off, would you mind if I called you by your proper name or do you prefer Ryan?”

Looking at the man who identified himself as his father, Ryan asked, “What do you mean my proper name?”

“Ah, I take it you didn’t hear that part of the conversation,” Corelian responded. “Your grandparents changed your name when I left you in their care sixteen years ago. Your name at birth, however, was Kyrian Corelian Laitannen.”

“Kyrian,” Ryan repeated, trying to get used to the sound of it. “Well, I guess if you want to call me that, you can, though I’m much more used to Ryan.”

“Well, if you prefer Ryan, then Ryan it shall be,” Corelian answered with a smile as he sat back down. “I loved your mother, Ryan. I loved her very much. We were to be married, but then two weeks before the wedding, you were born and she suffered complications and died. I had every intention of staying in England and raising you myself, but what a person intends to do and what they actually do are often very different things.”

“So, why did you leave?” Ryan asked. “Why did you leave me with my grandparents? They were great and all, but I’ve always wondered what was wrong with me that you didn’t want me.”

“Nothing is wrong with you, Ryan,” Corelian answered immediately. “You mustn’t think that I left because I didn’t want you, because I did. You were all I had left of your mother and I cherished you more then I can say, but the choice of staying was not mine to make.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Yes, I’m sure you don’t,” Corelian answered. “To make a long story short, I was ordered to return to Atlantis and to leave you behind. Failure to comply with that order would have resulted in my ex-communication from Atlantean society, which would have meant that I would be stripped of my powers, Obliviated so that I couldn’t reveal any Atlantean secrets, and forbidden to ever see or talk to any member of my family in Atlantis ever again.”

“So you chose to go back to Atlantis?” Ryan asked. “Why? I wouldn’t have cared if you didn’t have your powers. I would just have been glad to have you around.”

“Ryan, it’s not that simple,” answered Corelian. “What sets Atlanteans apart from humans, other then our pointed ears, is the fact that we are extremely long-lived. We actually have some Elven blood, which is the cause of our pointed ears and our long life spans. However, if I had stayed, I would have had my powers stripped, by having my magical core removed. Without my magical core, I would have begun to age and while I could probably have held on a few years, I would most likely have been dead by the time you were five.”

“I don’t understand,” Ryan said.

“Our magical core is what provides us with the ability to sustain our lives past that of our human magical counterparts,” Corelian answered. “I realize that I don’t look old, but I am actually older than Professor Dumbledore. Without my magical core, though, I would be bound by the same lifespan of human witches and wizards, and no human witch or wizard, even Merlin himself, has ever lived to be as old as I am now.”

“Exactly how old are you?” Justin asked.

“As of this past March,” Corelian answered, “I am 296 years old. That’s ancient by human standards, but actually quite young by Atlantean standards, considering that most Atlanteans live an average of 750 plus years.”

“Why did it take so long for you to come back?” Ryan asked. “I mean, you returned to Atlantis to avoid dying and all that, I get that. But why did it take sixteen years for you to come back?”

“Perhaps it would be best if instead of telling you, I showed you,” Corelian said before turning to Professor Dumbledore and asking, “Do you, by any chance, have a Pensieve?”

“Yes, I do,” answered Dumbledore as he stood from his desk and collected the item from the cabinet where he kept it. Placing it on his desk, Dumbledore took a moment to empty his own memories from it, before he sat down and nodded to Corelian.

Corelian smiled, stood up, and placed his finger on his temple. After a few seconds, he pulled his finger away and a long strand of silvery material followed it and fell into the awaiting Pensieve. Corelian gestured for Ryan and Justin to come over and view the memory he had just extracted. Hesitating for a second, Ryan and Justin stood, reached out their hands, touched the silvery liquid, and soon found themselves transported out of Dumbledore’s office and into Corelian’s memory.

“Asheera, dear, could you go and be Ryan and Justin’s guide?” Corelian asked. “I’d rather not relive that painful memory at the moment.”

Asheera nodded, stood, and soon disappeared from the room as she entered Corelian’s memory.

* * *

Ryan and Justin materialized in a large and opulent room. It looked very much like the throne room of a castle and it was, in fact, just that. Sitting in a huge silver throne on a raised platform at one end of the room was a man dressed in royal purple robes with a silver crown on his head.

“That is the former King of Atlantis,” Asheera said as she materialized behind Ryan and Justin. “His Majesty King Tyriand Isulus Rivendell; he died in August of this year, and his son, Erevan, assumed the throne.”

The three of them watched as King Tyriand sat upon his throne, looking as if he was patiently waiting for something to happen. Soon enough, the doors of the throne room opened and Corelian walked into the room. Ryan and Justin could see that Corelian did not look the slightest bit pleased as he bowed to his King.

“Ah, Corelian, it’s good to see you,” King Tyriand said.

“I wish I could say the same, Your Majesty,” Corelian said.

“I know you are angry with me right now,” King Tyriand said. “But you will get over that.”

“I don’t think so, Your Majesty,” Corelian said. “The woman I love, the woman I intended to marry, just died giving me a son. And instead of being where I belong, with my newborn son, I’m here.”

“You belong here in Atlantis!” King Tyriand exclaimed. “You do not, however, belong in England with your bastard half-breed son.”

“I realize that my son was born out of wedlock,” Corelian said. “But that does not mean that I love him any less or that I will stand here and listen to you calling him a bastard.”

“You have no choice!” King Tyriand yelled. “I am the King of Atlantis; the all-powerful ruler of all things Atlantean. If I say that you will stand here and listen to me calling your son a bastard, then you will do it. My word is law!”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Corelian said and it was obvious that he was trying desperately to hold his anger in check and not attack the man sitting on the throne.

“As long as I draw breath,” King Tyriand said, “you will never see that filthy half-breed bastard of yours ever again. You will remain here in Atlantis where you belong and you will banish all thoughts of your bastard from your head.”

“You can make me stay here, Your Majesty,” Corelian said. “You can even make me never see my son again, but you cannot ask me to forget about him. He may not be a pureblood Atlantean, but he is still my flesh and blood and I will not forget him.”

“Fine, if you want to think about him, you may do so,” King Tyriand said.

Just then, the doors of the throne room opened and another man ran into the room. Asheera leaned down and whispered to Ryan and Justin, “That’s Prince Erevan, now His Majesty King Erevan.”

“Father, I’ve come to ask you to please allow Corelian to return to England.”

“You are wasting your time, son of mine,” King Tyriand said. “Corelian will stay here in Atlantis.”

“Then, please, at least allow his son to come here,” Prince Erevan said.

“Never will I allow a half-breed bastard to set foot in Atlantis!” King Tyriand roared. “If you want Corelian’s bastard son to come here, Erevan, it will be over my cold, dead body!”

“Father, please, listen to reason,” Prince Erevan said. “Corelian is family. How can you treat him this way?”

“Erevan, just because you married Calliara Laitannen does not mean that I am going to give her brother Corelian any special treatment,” King Tyriand explained. “The law is the law, and the law clearly states that no half-breeds are allowed in Atlantis. The law also clearly states that Atlanteans who are first in line to positions in the Circle cannot live anywhere but Atlantis for any period longer than a year and a half. So, I am sorry, Erevan, but Corelian will stay here and his bastard son will stay in England. Nothing that either of you say will change my mind, so you might as well stop wasting your breath and get out of my sight.”

“Father, please,” Prince Erevan began.

“I SAID GO!” King Tyriand yelled at the top of his lungs.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Prince Erevan said with a bow and left the room, followed by Corelian.

Ryan, Justin, and Asheera followed them out of the room.

“I’m sorry, Corelian, I tried.”

“I know, Erevan, I know.”

“I swear to you Corelian,” Prince Erevan said, “as soon as I’m King, I will get you back to England with your son.”

“Thank you, Erevan,” Corelian said. “I only hope that when that happens, my son will be able to forgive me for my absence from his life.”

* * *

Ryan, Justin, and Asheera appeared back in Professor Dumbledore’s office. Nobody said a word as Ryan stood there silently for several minutes, before he flung his arms around Corelian and buried his face in the older man’s shoulder, as he began crying. Corelian wrapped his arms around Ryan and held him, doing his best to comfort his son.

Justin hated seeing his boyfriend cry, but the fact that these were not tears of sadness, but tears of happiness, was consoling to him. Justin stepped forward, placed a hand lightly on Ryan’s back, and began to rub it around in circles. Corelian noticed the gesture and smiled at Justin, happy that his son had found the kind of love that he had always hoped he’d find.

As the hug ended, Ryan looked at Corelian and said, “I forgive you for not being there for me. I saw in the memory that you really wanted to be and that the only reason you weren’t was because Tyriand forced you to stay.”

“I can’t even begin to tell you how many times I’ve dreamt of hearing those words, Ryan. You’ve never left my thoughts over the last sixteen years and I’ll always feel bad that I wasn’t there for you, but I’m glad that you understand why I wasn’t.”

“King Tyriand said that as long as he lived, no half-breed would ever be allowed to go to Atlantis,” Justin said. “Does that mean that Ryan will never be allowed to see it?”

“He’ll be able to,” Asheera answered. “King Erevan has thrown out all of his father’s xenophobic laws. Some Atlanteans may still hold the same beliefs that King Tyriand did, but they can’t to anything about it. No Atlantean is stupid enough to go against the King, and even if they were, they certainly wouldn’t be stupid enough to go against the King, the Queen, and the Circle.”

As everyone sat back down, Dumbledore asked the question that was running through both Ryan and Justin’s minds, “What exactly is the Circle?”

Valen answered. “The Circle is a group of nine witches and wizards, who act as the defenders and guardians of Atlantis. In Atlantis, magic is split into nine distinct spheres of study: the elemental spheres of Air, Water, Earth, and Fire, plus the Order, Chaos, Life, and Death spheres. The ninth sphere, Cosmos, encompasses everything the others don’t.

“Every one thousand years, nine new witches and wizards are chosen and trained to master one of the nine spheres. They use the powers of their sphere to protect not only Atlantis, but to also guard one of the nine ancient artifacts created by Posiedon, the God of the Seas and the Patron Deity of Atlantis.”

At this point, Asheera took over. “The Kingdom of Atlantis was not always underwater. At one time our continent was just like all the others above water, with one distinct difference: the entire continent of Atlantis was much like your village of Hogsmeade with witches and wizards as the only residents. However, as time passed, it became increasingly harder to protect Atlantis from Muggles as they began to develop ways of sailing across the oceans and landing on our shores, trying to claim this new world as they saw it for themselves. The other magical communities of the world were very small and it was easy to hide them from Muggle view, but it would have taken an enormous amount of magic to hide an entire continent and keep it hidden forever.

“So, our ancestors about five thousand years ago prayed to Posiedon for help and he agreed to help us. Posiedon sank the entire continent of Atlantis and created nine artifacts of power that would generate sufficient shielding to protect us from the crushing pressures that exist at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean.”

“So can Atlanteans breathe underwater like the merpeople?” Justin asked.

“No, we can’t,” Corelian answered. “While it is true that we Atlanteans do live underwater, we don’t actually live in water. The nine shield artifacts shield our world from the water and create an artificial atmosphere very similar to that of the surface world. We have air to breathe, clouds in the sky, and even weather like rain, snow, and hurricanes. The only difference is that it is never what most people would consider daytime in Atlantis. Being under the ocean, we don’t have access to the moon, the stars, or the sun, so magic creates all of the light and heat that we need.”

“You introduced yourself as the Supreme Lord of the Circle,” Dumbledore said.

“Yes, that’s because I am the current Master of the Cosmos sphere,” Corelian revealed. “A position I inherited from my father ten years ago when he died. He was still quite young by Atlantean standards, but despite our long life spans, we are still, nonetheless, mortal. It is the main difference between us and our Elven ancestors, who like the Gods of Olympus, are immortal.”

“So, who are the other members of the Circle?” Ryan asked.

“You wouldn’t know most of them, Ryan,” Corelian answered, “despite the fact that you are related either by blood or marriage to all of them. The nine Lords and Ladies of the Circle are currently all members of two of the oldest and most prominent Atlantean houses, the Laitannen and Lasinius families, in addition, of course, to Atlantis’ royal family, the Rivendells.”

“So, are you a member of the circle, Professor?” Justin asked as he looked over at Professor Lasinius.

“Gods, no,” Valen said quickly. “I’m much too young and carefree to take on such a responsibility.”

“How old are you, if you don’t mind my asking, Professor?” Ryan asked.

“I’m 126,” Valen answered.

“That’s young?” Justin asked.

“Yes, Justin, at least by Atlantean standards it is,” Valen said with a grin. “In fact, it may shock you to hear this, but the age of majority in Atlantis is 120 years. That may seem like an awfully long time to wait to become an adult, but considering how long lived we are, it just wouldn’t be appropriate to say that one was an adult at such a young age like 17.”

“Moving back to the topic of the Circle,” Corelian said, “there is one other member of the Circle here; my beautiful wife, Lady Asheera, who is Mistress of the Sphere of Life.”

“So, if you two are a part of this Circle,” Dumbledore said, “does your presence here leave Atlantis and the shield artifacts you mentioned undefended?”

“No, it doesn’t,” Asheera answered. “His Majesty King Erevan’s son and daughter-in-law are temporarily filling our positions in the Circle. It is common for members of the royal family to master all the spheres, in case the need arises for a temporary replacement or if a member of the Circle should die without an heir to inherit their position before their family’s 1000 year appointment ends.”

“Does that mean that I will one day be a member of the Circle?” Ryan asked.

“No, Ryan, you won’t be,” Corelian answered. “The Laitannen family’s appointment to the Cosmos sphere ends in 2001. So even if I were to die before then, you can’t be Master of the Cosmos sphere because while you are my eldest and only child, you’re too young. You would have to reach your 120th year before you could ever become a member of the Circle.”

* * *

It was a major relief for Harry and Hermione that Ron had not caused any scenes. They had both been sure that he would be angry when he found out that they had attended the Ball together, but thus far, they hadn’t heard anything from him.

Of course, the reason that Ron hadn’t reacted badly to it was because he didn’t know. Since Hermione dumped him, there had been little on Ron’s mind except getting revenge on a certain blond Slytherin. So, instead of going to the Ball, Ron hid and waited for everyone to go downstairs before he helped himself to Harry’s invisibility cloak and the Marauder’s Map.

Using the two of them, Ron had no problems reaching the library undetected. It was not his favorite place to be, but Ron was determined to find a way to get back at Malfoy, so he decided it best to sneak into the Restricted Section to read up on some particularly nasty curses from one of the Dark Arts books kept there.

Ron had just about given up hope of finding anything, when a smile spread across his face as he read a spell from the book in front of him, and he whispered, “Perfect.”

* * *

Two hours later, Corelian, Asheera, Valen, Ryan, Justin, and Dumbledore exited his office and went back to the Great Hall for the Ball. Dumbledore had lied to the other professors when he said that he had charmed the entrance of the Great Hall to transport all who crossed the threshold to the Room of Requirement.

The truth was that it was the Great Hall with the same magic employed by the Room of Requirement cast upon it. Ryan had been right in his thought that Rowena and Helga had something to do with the decorations, for the two founders had indeed gone to visit Professor Dumbledore and taught him the spells they used to create the Room of Requirement.

So, from now on Hogwarts Castle will actually have two Rooms of Requirement. Rowena, Helga, and Dumbledore are the only ones who know of that development though and Dumbledore is keeping it a secret under the Fidelius. It may seem a bit odd, but Dumbledore feels its best that it doesn’t become public knowledge because it could provide a big advantage if the war with Voldemort ever comes to Hogwarts. It would be much easier to get all the students locked away safely in the Great Hall then to get them upstairs to the Room of Requirement, so Dumbledore didn’t want to take any chances that anyone on Voldemort’s side found out. The students and professors will still be able to enter the Great Hall as they always could, they just won’t be able to find out that it’s a second Room of Requirement unless Dumbledore tells them and that’ll only be on a very strict need to know basis.

The Ball lasted well into the night, before finally dieing down at about midnight. As the last of the stragglers left the room, only a handful of people remained, all of who knew that Ryan was Rowena’s heir.

“So, I suppose I’ll have to have guest quarters setup for you two?” Dumbledore asked, as he looked at Corelian and Asheera.

“That would be most kind of you, Professor,” Asheera said.

“Yes, kind, but unnecessary, Professor,” Ryan said and upon the questioning look from the Headmaster, he elaborated, “My father and step-mother can stay in one of the empty bedrooms in Rowena’s quarters. She has about twenty guest rooms, so there’s plenty of room and it’s very private since I am in sole control of who can and cannot enter the room.”

“Valen told us that you found out about being Rowena’s heir,” Corelian said. “So, tell me, have you figured out who the other heirs are yet?”

Justin looked at Corelian and noticed the look on his face, which led him to believe that Corelian already knew who all the heirs were, a fact which he soon voiced.

“You’ve caught me, Justin,” Corelian said with a grin. “The truth of the matter is that Valen, Asheera, and I do know the identities of all four of the heirs.”

“How do you know?” Ryan asked. “The ‘Tome of the Founders’ hasn’t been fully restored yet and the names of the other heirs are still unreadable.”

“Just because the original book is in Rowena’s library,” Asheera revealed, “doesn’t mean that other copies don’t exist.”

“You mean?” Dumbledore asked.

“Yes, Headmaster,” Valen confirmed, “there is a second copy of the ‘Tome of the Founders’ written by Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff themselves over 1000 years ago in the Royal Library of Atlantis.”

“Actually, it’s not in the Royal Library,” Corelian said with a grin as he reached into an inner pocket of his robes, pulled out an extremely small book and waved his hand over it, causing it to enlarge to it’s proper size.

“How did you ever get Lady Ayala do let you take that book out of the library?” Valen asked. “I know my sister and how much of a stickler for the rules she is. There’s no way she’d allow you to take a book in the Reference section out of the building, let alone off the continent.”

Noticing the clueless looks on all the faces of the room’s non-Atlanteans, Asheera said, “Valen is referring to our sister, Lady Ayala Lasinius-Rivendell. She’s married to King Erevan’s younger brother, Lord Anon. In addition to being the Mistress of the Fire Sphere, she is also the librarian of the Royal Library.”

“As for how I got her to release the book,” Corelian said, “it wasn’t easy, but Calliara came to my aid. She told Ayala that her husband had requested that the book be released into my care and Ayala isn’t about to go against the King, no matter how protective she might be of the books in the library.”

“And does Erevan know that he made such a request?” Valen asked, knowing his brother-in-law very well.

“Well, no, he doesn’t,” Corelian admitted, “but I’m sure my sister will find a way to curb her husband’s anger if he finds out.”

“Not to sound impatient or anything,” Hermione said. “But could we please see the book so that we can finally find out who the Heirs of Slytherin and Gryffindor are?”

“Ah, so, I take it you already know that the Heir of Hufflepuff is one Zacharias Ethan Smith,” Asheera stated.

“Yes, that would be me,” Zacharias spoke up. “I found out a few days ago and I’m still in shock to be honest.”

“Well, the other two heirs are in this room,” Corelian said. “I’m really rather surprised that you haven’t thought of this, but it would be extremely easy to find out who the Heir of Slytherin is. All you would have had to do is determine who, other then Mr. Potter, can speak Parseltongue.”

“We did think about that,” Harry said, “but seeing as how we didn’t have any clue which of the more then one-thousand students in this school might be the Heir we thought it a bit unpractical. Plus, Rowena said that only Slytherin’s male heirs could speak Parseltongue and we don’t know if the other heirs are male or female.”

“They’re all male,” Corelian said, as he looked at the male students in the room, who consisted of Ryan, Zacharias, Harry, Draco, Nicolas, and Justin.

“Oh Corelian, honey, will you just open the damn book and let them see for themselves already?” Asheera said. “Stop torturing them.”

“Yes, dear,” Corelian said as he waved his hand, conjured a bookstand, and then carefully placed the book on it, before opening it. Everyone in the room gathered around the book and peered at the writing on the page.

* * *

Written in bright blue ink on the right page was the following:

EDMUND WILLIAM CROMWELL, born 29-04-1898, died 10-07-1975, age 77  
WILLIAM CHARLES CROMWELL, born 10-06-1924, died 23-11-1990, age 66  
CHARLES MATTHEW CROMWELL, born 30-07-1954, age 42  
ALEXANDRA FIONA CROMWELL, born 09-03-1956, died 21-04-1980, age 24  
MATTHEW WILLIAM CROMWELL, born 21-01-1976, age 20  
KYRIAN CORELIAN LAITANNEN, born 21-04-1980, age 16

Written in dark black ink on the left page:

BARNABAS EPHRAIM SMITH, born 29-10-1837, died 05-11-1917, age 80  
HEPZIBAH ESTHER SMITH, born 03-03-1839, died 21-06-1944, age 105  
EPHRAIM ZEBULON SMITH, born 12-04-1871, died 14-04-1971, age 100  
ZEBULON JEREMIAH SMITH, born 18-01-1893, died 10-06-1979, age 86  
JEREMIAH ISAIAH SMITH, born 19-08-1921, died 10-06-1979, age 58  
ISAIAH ZACHARIAS SMITH, born 23-10-1947, age 49  
HANNAH ELSPETH SMITH, born 14-06-1949, age 47  
CEDRIC JEREMIAH DIGGORY, born 17-09-1977, died 24-06-1995, age 17  
ZACHARIAS ETHAN SMITH, born 17-09-1979, age 16

* * *

“That’s nice and all,” Ryan said as he looked at his father, “but we already knew that.”

Corelian smiled as he patted his son on the shoulder and turned the page, revealing more names that had previously been unreadable.

* * *

Written in green ink on the right page, were the following names:

MARVOLO MORFIN GAUNT, born 03-09-1868, died 18-09-1925, age 57  
MORFIN MARVOLO GAUNT, born 12-03-1895, died 31-10-1950, age 55  
MEROPE MORFINA GAUNT, born 20-01-1906, died 31-12-1926, age 20  
ARIANA MEROPE RIDDLE, born 23-06-1925, age 71  
TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE, born 31-12-1926, age 16  
JEAN-LUC PHILLIPE BYRNE, born 13-12-1959, age 37  
NICOLAS PHILLIPE DELANEY, born 10-09-1979, age 17

* * *

“I am Slytherin’s heir?” Nicolas asked, obviously shocked.

“If you are 17-year-old Nicolas Phillipe Delaney,” Asheera answered, “then, yes, you are the heir of Salazar Slytherin.”

“I don’t understand how this is possible,” Nicolas said. “I mean, my father’s name is there, but my grandparents’ names aren’t.”

“Actually, they are,” Asheera said. “Your grandmother is listed, Nicolas, only, she’s listed by her name at birth and not her adopted name.”

“You mean that Ariana Merope Riddle is my grandmother?”

“Yes, Nicolas,” Valen confirmed. “Ariana Merope Riddle and Professor Angelique Josette Byrne are one in the same.”

“But my grandmother wasn’t born on the 23rd of June,” Nicolas said. “Her birthday is the 18th of July.”

“Yes, well, it isn’t unheard of for people to adopt a child and then celebrate the day they adopted the child as the child’s birthday, instead of their actual birthday,” Asheera said.

“My grandmother would have told me if she was adopted,” Nicolas said.

“You know, there is a very easy way to solve this,” Valen said. “Mr. Potter?”

Harry looked at Professor Lasinius for a moment, not understanding what the professor wanted him to do, but then he understood.

“Can you understand what I’m saying, Nicolas?” Harry asked.

“Of course, I can understand what you’re saying, Harry,” Nicolas answered in English, not even realizing that Harry had not spoken in English.

“Nick, Harry just spoke to you in Parseltongue,” Ryan said. “If you could understand it, then that means you must be Slytherin’s heir, because only Slytherin’s male heirs can speak Parseltongue.”

“Well, how can Harry speak it then?” Nicolas asked.

“It’s a long story,” Harry said. “The short version is that Voldemort transferred some of his powers to me the night he killed my parents, including his ability to speak Parseltongue.”

“So, I’m dating the Heir of Slytherin?” Bill asked suddenly, without thinking. “Oh my family is going to love this.”

“Dating the Heir of Slytherin?” Dumbledore asked a twinkle in his eye.

“Oops,” Bill said as he covered his mouth with the palm of his hand.

“Yes, Professor,” Nicolas said as he looked at the Headmaster. “Bill and I are together. We’ve been dating for a few weeks now.”

Dumbledore nodded and said, “Well, normally, I’d have to be angry with you two, considering it’s against the rules for professors to date the students. But, as I’m sure you already know, it’s not if the student is 17 and you are, Mr. Delaney. My only question is why didn’t you two come to the dance together tonight if you are indeed a couple?”

“We discussed that,” Bill said, “and we weren’t ready for the whole school, let alone the whole Wizarding World, to know that we were together. Up until now, only a select few of Nick’s friends knew that we were together. I haven’t told anyone in my family yet and Nick hasn’t told his grandmother, either.”

“This must be a mistake,” Hermione said as she read over the list of names a third time. “It says that Tom Marvolo Riddle is only sixteen years old. That’s impossible.”

“Miss Granger,” Valen said. “Nothing is impossible; improbable maybe, but not impossible.”

“The book doesn’t lie,” Rowena said and everyone turned to see Rowena and Helga looking down from the large framed landscape hanging above the fireplace. “If the book says that he is only sixteen, then he is only sixteen.”

“How is that possible though?” Hermione asked. “How can a person born in 1926 be only 16 in 1996?”

“Oh, there are ways, Miss Granger,” Helga said.

“Yes, there are definitely ways,” Rowena confirmed. “One that springs to mind is a little known Dark Arts version of the Time Suspension charm. It is essentially a prison charm, which allows a wizard to cast the Time Suspension charm on a prisoner, using the prisoner’s magical core to sustain the spell. The constant draw on their core will keep the prisoner weak both magically and physically, so that the prisoner won’t be able to fight against the person who imprisoned them. The spell allows the caster or anyone in the caster’s service to interact with the prisoner and as a side effect, would prevent the prisoner from aging as long as the spell is on them.”

“Not even the most powerful wizard in the world could stand to have a spell that drew power from their cores active for such a long period of time, let alone a sixteen year old wizard.”

“You are right, of course, Albus,” Helga said. “However, if the jailer has been giving the prisoner regular doses of a powerful magical restorative draft, it might be possible for the prisoner to survive indefinitely.”

* * *

“Wake up you little wretch,” Voldemort shouted as he entered the room where his teenage prisoner has been held for over half a century. “I said wake up! Crucio!”

Bone-melting pain coursing through one’s body is most certainly not a pleasant way to awaken in the morning and Voldemort laughed as his teenage prisoner jolted awake and screamed as best as his parched throat would allow.

Lifting the spell, Voldemort continued to laugh cruelly as his prisoner swung his legs unto the cold stone floor and looked at him. With a flick of his wand, the boy found himself flying through the air, finally coming to a stop with a sickening crunch as he was thrown face first against a nearby wall.

“Oh I do so enjoy torturing you, boy,” Voldemort said, as the boy collected himself and curled up against the wall. “Causing you pain has definitely been a highlight of the last 54 years.”  
“54 years?” the boy croaked out, obviously shocked by that statement.

“Yes, boy, you have been my prisoner for 54 years,” Voldemort confirmed. “Ever since you were a student at Hogwarts and you tried to thwart my plans to rule the world. I was certainly not going to allow a pathetic sixteen-year-old whelp to thwart me, so I imprisoned you and assumed your identity. It really was quite a coincidence that your name just so happened to spell my name, if you rearranged the letters.”

Raising his wand in the air, Voldemort spelled out his prisoner’s name.

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE

And then with a flick of his wand, the boy watched as the letters of his name rearranged in midair.

I AM LORD VOLDEMORT

“People fear the name of Lord Voldemort, boy,” Voldemort said. “They fear it so much that they refuse to even say it. They refer to me as You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. And of course, several people, your old Headmaster Albus Dumbledore for example, believes that we are the same person. He feels responsible I’m sure. Feeling like he somehow let you down, since you became the most powerful Dark Lord of the century, ten times more powerful then Grindelwald could have ever dreamed of being. Of course, he’ll never know the truth. He’ll never know that the student at his school all those years ago and the Dark Lord he now fights against are not the same entity.”

“You are a monster,” Tom whispered.

“Oh I know I am,” Voldemort said. “At any rate, I’m winning the war. It’s only a matter of time before the Light falls, the Dark will rule for eternity, and I will finally get what I’ve wanted all these years! I will rule not only Earth, but under my guidance it will become the Tenth Hell, deepest of the Hells, and I will therefore be Lord and Master of all the Hells. That my boy is power beyond that which you can imagine and nobody will be able to stop me.”

“Light will prevail,” Tom said. “It may appear to disappear, but it can never be banished completely.”

“That’s what you think, boy,” Voldemort said, as he again conjured a whip and began to lash the sixteen-year-old boy in front of him. The difference this time being that Voldemort conjured the whip so that it would be alight with magical fire, so in addition to slicing Tom’s skin open, it was also searing it.

Tom screamed in pain and as much as he didn’t want to, he soon found himself begging for mercy. Voldemort stopped his assault and banished the whip, as Tom began crying, his tears stinging his wounded and burned flesh.

Voldemort simply laughed as a house-elf entered the room to clean and dress Tom’s new wounds and swept from the room, cackling like a madman.

* * *  
Back in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, Dumbledore, Ryan, Zacharias, Nicolas, Bill, Hermione, Justin, Harry, Draco, Susan, Matthew, Oliver, Corelian, Asheera, and Valen stood around the stand now holding the Atlantean copy of the ‘Tome of the Founders’, with Rowena and Helga looking down from the frame above the fireplace.

“How could Tom Riddle possibly be held prisoner all these years?” Harry asked. “He’s Voldemort and that’s who we’re at war with.”

“I didn’t say that he was a prisoner, Harry,” Rowena said. “I was just presenting a possible explanation for how someone could remain sixteen years old for such a long time.”

“Well, let’s worry about Tom Riddle later,” Draco said. “Who is Gryffindor’s heir?”

“You are standing next to him, Mr. Malfoy,” Corelian answered.

“You mean?”

“Yes, Mr. Malfoy, I do mean him,” Corelian said as he waved his hand and the page of the book turned to reveal more names, all of them written in deep red.

NATALIE MAUREEN POTTER, born 09-02-1870, died 09-05-1943, age 73  
NATHAN MATTHEW POTTER, born 09-02-1870, died 10-06-1979, age 109  
JONATHAN JAMES POTTER, born 17-08-1892, died 12-06-1979, age 87  
JAMES NATHAN POTTER, born 25-12-1960, died 31-10-1981, age 21  
AARIK JAMES POTTER, born 31-07-1980, age 16

“Who is Aarik Potter?” Harry asked.

“Notice the date of birth, Mr. Potter?” Corelian said.

“That’s my birthday,” Harry said.

“And James Potter is your father correct?” Asheera asked.

“Yes, he was, but again, who is Aarik?” Harry asked.

“You are Aarik James Potter,” Valen said as he pointed at Harry. “I have no idea how you came to be known as Harry James Potter, but I’m sure there is probably someone, somewhere who would know the answer to that.”

“If it’s true,” Harry said, “and my name actually is Aarik Potter, then that means that I’m Gryffindor’s heir.”

“Indeed, it does, Mr. Potter,” Corelian said.

* * *

To be continued...


	21. Chapter 21

Harry Potter and the Return of the Heirs  
By J.C. Vascardi

* * *  
Chapter Twenty-One  
* * *

Saturday, the Second of November, dawned like any other day, but it wasn’t a normal day at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It wasn’t common knowledge, but Corelian Laitannen, his wife, Asheera, and Professor Lasinius had revealed all four of the heirs of the Founders.

Something that was common knowledge by now was that Professor Lasinius was Atlantean, as he did not go back to using the glamour charms that he had been using previously to hide his appearance. He did, however, albeit reluctantly continue to use his wand, even though he much preferred using Wandless Magic, which Atlanteans were masters of.

Professor Dumbledore asked Valen to continue using his wand, simply so that it would not become public knowledge that he was capable of performing Wandless Magic. Since Valen only taught two fencing classes a week, Professor Dumbledore asked if he would be willing to secretly teach a class on Wandless Magic to a group of select students at some future date.

Corelian and Asheera agreed that it could be a tactical advantage if certain students could learn and master Wandless Magic before Voldemort or his minions found out that such training was occurring. To that end, they both agreed to not perform Wandless Magic in the presence of anyone who did not already know they could.

“So, how are you going to perform magic then?” Ryan asked, after his father filled him in on the recent development.

“I’ve sent word to Atlantis,” Corelian answered, “that I am in need of enough Atlantean Spruce wood to create two wands; one for myself and one for Asheera.”

“Why would you special order wood from Atlantis?” Justin asked. “I’m sure you could have simply gone to Ollivander’s and gotten wands.”

“I’m afraid it’s not that simple,” Asheera said. “The wands that Mr. Ollivander makes work very well for humans. Atlantean blood, however, is a highly concentrated magical substance, so powerful in fact, that human wand makers can’t make wands that will work for an Atlantean, due to a conflict between our blood and the wand’s core element.”

“I bought my wand from Mr. Ollivander,” Ryan said. “I’ve never had any problems with it.”

“Ryan do you recall when your grandparents took you to buy your wand?” Asheera asked.

“Yes, it was the year before my grandfather died,” Ryan said. “They took me to Diagon Alley to buy a wand, because they wanted me to practice with it, so that by the time I started school, I’d be comfortable using it.”

“Have you never found it strange, Ryan,” Corelian said, “that they took you to buy your wand two years before you were due to start school? Charles didn’t take Matthew to buy his wand until the summer before he was due to start Hogwarts.”

“Well, I did find that a little strange,” Ryan said, “but I wanted a wand and to be able to do magic, so I certainly never questioned it.”

“Yes, well, the truth is, Ryan,” Corelian said, “that you did indeed go to Mr. Ollivander’s shop to buy a wand and if you remember correctly, you tried several that did not work, before finally Mr. Ollivander produced a wand that did. It is the only wand that Mr. Ollivander has ever sold that he did not make himself.”

“Mr. Ollivander did not make my wand?”

“No, Ryan, he didn’t,” Asheera said. “What did he say your wand was? That is what wood and core element did he say it contained?”

“Oak, ten inches, dragon heartstring,” Ryan said.

“Well, your wand is ten inches,” Asheera said, “but it is not oak and it does not contain a dragon heartstring.”

“Your wand is made of Atlantean Spruce, Ryan,” Corelian said, “as for the core element it contains the tail feather of a roc, which was soaked overnight in my blood.”

“A rock?” Justin asked. “Since when do rocks have tail feathers?”

“No, Justin,” Asheera said with a smile, “not a rock spelled R-O-C-K. Corelian was referring to a roc, spelled R-O-C. It’s a very large hawk-like bird, comparable in size to a dragon. It has two heads and is capable of picking up an elephant in its claws to feed to its young.”

“I’m not sure I’ve ever seen or even so much as read about such a creature,” Justin said.

“Well, I’m not surprised,” said Corelian. “Rocs are native to Atlantis and nowhere else in the world. At one time they were native to other areas of the world, but they only exist in Atlantis now. They make their nests high up in mountains, above the cloud level, so it is not a common occurrence to see one, but they do make their presence known from time to time.”

“So, why is my wand’s core element a roc’s tail feather, soaked in your blood?” Ryan asked.

“Well, as Asheera said,” Corelian said. “Atlantean blood is a highly magical substance and using another magical substance in conjunction with it causes undesirable results. Through experimentation, we found that using a roc tail feather soaked in our own blood worked with the only real drawback being that one’s powers would be slightly limited.”

“So why wasn’t my own blood used?” Ryan asked. “Is it because I’m half-human? Is my blood weaker then that of a pureblooded Atlantean?”

“No, Ryan,” Asheera answered. “The fact that you are half-human has absolutely nothing to do with the reason your blood was not used. The reason your blood wasn’t used was because your grandparents didn’t know how they would be able to get blood from you without arousing your suspicions. Wouldn’t you have found it a bit strange if your grandparents suddenly sat you down and asked to take a pint of your blood?”

“Well, yes, to be honest,” Ryan said.

“What about Ryan’s other question?” Justin asked.

“Is his blood weaker?” Corelian asked, and Justin nodded. “Yes and no.”

“Yes and no?” Ryan asked. “What does that mean?”

“Basically, Ryan, magically your blood is not any weaker then a pureblood Atlantean. You can perform magic as well as any other Atlantean. However, we have found over the years that Half-Atlanteans tend to have a shorter average lifespan then pureblood Atlanteans.”

“As we told you in Professor Dumbledore’s office,” Asheera said, “pureblood Atlanteans often live an average of 750 plus years. Half-Atlanteans generally tend to live an average of 500 plus years, rarely ever reaching the 600th year. Although like pureblood Atlanteans, Half-Atlanteans are still eternally youthful.”

“You know, I haven’t said anything,” Ryan said, “but this whole long lifespan thing has been on my mind ever since I found out about it and I’m really beginning to get upset about it.”

“Why is that, Ryan?” Corelian asked.

“Because it means that I’m going to have to watch all of my friends, my family, and Justin get old and die, while I stay young and alive for centuries longer.”

* * *

Meanwhile, Harry was in Professor Dumbledore’s office, upon the Headmaster’s request.

“Thank you for coming, Harry,” Dumbledore said. “Or should I say Aarik?”  
“I really don’t understand this Aarik thing,” Harry commented, before asking, “Why am I known as Harry Potter if my name is Aarik Potter?”

“I believe I can shed some light on that,” a familiar voice said from the doorway and Harry turned to see Remus Lupin standing there with a smile.

Harry smiled and got up to give Remus a hug, before they both sat down in front of Dumbledore’s desk and Dumbledore made the usual offer of tea or lemon drops. Harry politely declined and Remus accepted a cup of tea.

“So, how did you find out about your real name?” Remus asked.

“It’s true, then?” Harry asked. “My name really is Aarik?”

“Yes, it is,” confirmed Remus.

“I found out from the ‘Tome of the Founders’,” Harry responded. “My name is listed as Aarik James Potter, in red, signifying me as the heir of Godric Gryffindor.”

“You’re Gryffindor’s heir?” Remus asked as he almost choked on his tea. “I knew about the name, but I didn’t know you were related to Gryffindor.”

“Well, I just found out myself,” Harry said. “Dad never knew?”

“If he did, he certainly never said anything,” Remus said. “James wasn’t really the bragging type, but I’m sure that if he knew he was the heir of Godric Gryffindor, he would have at the very least told his friends about it.”

“Hmm, well, I haven’t told many people myself,” Harry mused, “of course, I’ve only known since the early morning hours of yesterday. So what’s the deal with my name?”

“I’m sure you know that you were named James after your father,” Remus said. “As for the Aarik, you are actually named after a cousin of your mother’s.”

“My mother had a cousin named Aarik?”

“Yes, she did,” answered Remus. “Aarik Evans was Lily’s favorite cousin. He was not a wizard, but they still got along really well. In all honesty, they were more like brother and sister then cousins, certainly much closer then Lily and Petunia ever were. He probably would have been named your godfather, but he unfortunately contracted a rare form of leukemia and died a few months before you were born. Lily then named you Aarik in honor of him.”

“So, why does everybody call me Harry?”

“Well, that is actually Sirius and Hagrid’s fault,” Remus replied. “Sirius always used to call you Ari for short, and Hagrid misunderstood and thought he was saying Harry. After that, the nickname caught on and even James started using it, much to Lily’s displeasure.”  
Harry remained silent for a few moments as he took in the information, before he suddenly had a thought and asked, “Wait a minute, if my name really is Aarik then why are my Hogwarts letters addressed to Harry Potter?”

“The Headmaster will have to answer that one,” Remus said with a grin as he turned to look at the Headmaster.

“Well, Harry, or should I say Aarik,” Dumbledore said, “the reason your Hogwarts letters say Harry Potter is because I changed your student records to say Harry Potter instead of Aarik Potter.”

“Why?”

“I knew that surviving the Killing Curse would make you famous,” Dumbledore said. “So famous that your name would be known to every witch and wizard in our world, so before I left you with the Dursleys, I changed the Hogwarts records to say that your name was Harry Potter, with the thought that after Voldemort was finally destroyed, you would be able to revert back to the name of Aarik Potter and hopefully slip into anonymity.”

“Surely there are other records that prove my name is actually Aarik?” Harry said. “I mean, I understand how you could have changed the Hogwarts records, but you couldn’t possibly have changed every record in existence.”

“You’re right, I couldn’t,” Dumbledore confirmed. “The records I couldn’t change I simply had sealed.”

“Sealed?” Harry asked.

“Yes, sealed,” Dumbledore replied. “I’m the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, which means I’m basically the highest judge in British Wizarding society and I have the full authority to issue an order for records to be sealed. Only the Minister could overturn the order, but Fudge and now Scrimgeour have no idea that I ever made such an order.”

“Well, people would still recognize me wouldn’t they?”

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Dumbledore said, “but isn’t it true that most people don’t even realize that you are Harry Potter unless they see your scar?”

“Yeah, that’s generally true,” Harry said as he thought back to all the times that people hadn’t realized who he was until seeing his scar. It was the reason that he had gotten in the habit of trying to keep his hair covering the scar as much as possible.

“Then you needn’t worry,” Dumbledore said. “I think once Voldemort is gone, your scar will likely be gone with him.”

* * *

“I understand why that thought pains you, Ryan,” Corelian said. “I hope that you can take solace in knowing, however, that King Erevan has drafted new laws recently, which will allow you and Justin to get married in Atlantis, using the ancient Atlantean marriage rites and customs.”

“How is that supposed to provide me with any solace?” Ryan asked. “I’m still going to remain young and alive for about 400 years longer than Justin.”

“No, actually, that’s not true,” said Asheera. “You see, Ryan, before the sinking of Atlantis, the majority of the populace was nowhere near as xenophobic as they are now. It wasn’t exactly common, but a fair number of Atlanteans did marry humans and members of other species. The Atlantean marriage rites grant the married couple the ability to use all special abilities possessed by their partner, which includes the longer Atlantean lifespan and eternal youth.

“In addition to that,” Asheera continued, “there is precedent for the King of Atlantis allowing two people who are not of Atlantean descent to marry under the marriage customs. This was usually decided on a case-by-case basis and the only people who could take advantage of it were family members and occasionally the best friends of a non-Atlantean who married an Atlantean.”

Asheera paused and Corelian took over the explanation, “The Atlantean spouse in turn sponsors his spouses’ non-Atlantean family and friends, donating a few drops of his own blood to be sealed into each piece of the traditional Atlantean wedding jewelry, which grants them the Atlantean lifespan and eternal youth. So, barring death by anything other than natural causes, those family members and friends would be able to stay alive and young for as long as any Atlantean.”

“So, you mean that I can marry Justin,” Ryan said, “and grant him my longer lifespan and eternal youth?”

“Yes,” Corelian said.

“And I could for example, sponsor Matt and Oliver so I don’t have to watch them get old and die?”

“Yes,” Corelian answered, “provided that King Erevan agrees. And you should be thankful, Ryan, of the fact that I am the Supreme Lord of the Circle and the elder brother of Queen Calliara, because King Erevan has already agreed to allow you to sponsor a total of five non-Atlantean couples, one of which can be Matthew and Oliver, and then four other couples of your choice.”

* * *

Late that night, about ten p.m., Harry opened the portrait and let Ryan, Justin, Nick, Bill, and Zach into the Gryffindor common room to join him and Hermione. Rowena and Helga said they couldn’t clearly remember where the hallway entrance to Godric’s quarters was, so they suggested entering through the common room entrance.

“Hey guys,” said Harry as everyone entered.

“Hullo, Harry,” Nick said, “Or should we be calling you Aarik now?”

“I’m sticking with Harry for the moment,” Harry answered. “Maybe after the war is over, I’ll revert back to Aarik but, for the moment, it’s Harry.”

“Okay, your choice,” said Bill.

“So, shall we go and meet Godric?” Hermione asked.

“Might as well,” answered Harry. “I know that Rowena and Helga are anxious to have it out with him for maligning Slytherin’s name.”

“Anxious is an understatement, Harry,” Ryan said. “Rowena has been talking about little else since we found out you were Godric’s heir.”

“Same with Helga,” Zach said. “She’s furious with Godric and I know that he’s supposed to be known for his bravery, but I’m not sure all the bravery in the world is going to help Godric when Rowena and Helga get to him.”

“Like the saying goes,” Nick said. “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Godric has two scorned women to deal with. If it wasn’t my ancestor he had maligned, I would almost feel sorry for him.”

“Yeah,” Bill said as he wrapped an arm around Nick’s waist. “Godric is really going to be in for it though. I mean, Rowena and Helga are mad enough at him. Can you even imagine how angry Salazar will be with him?”

“Well, let’s get this over with,” Harry said as he walked over to the common room fireplace and traced Godric’s initials on the mantelpiece. Much like the entrance to the other quarters, the letters soon began to glow in bright red as the mantle began to glow golden. The sound of stone moving against stone filled the room as the fireplace swung away from the wall to reveal an archway behind it.

Harry stepped through the archway and looked around at what was obviously the common room of Godric’s quarters. Looking around the room, Harry couldn’t help but notice the similarity to what Rowena and Helga’s quarters had looked like at first. Sheets covered all the furniture, there were cobwebs everywhere, and a thick layer of dust coated every imaginable surface. The air was extremely stale smelling and as it had been with the others, it was obvious that the room had been uninhabited for centuries.

“Um, Harry?” Zach spoke up. “Could you let us in?”

“Oh, sorry, I forgot,” Harry said, as he motioned for the six people in the Gryffindor common room to pass through the archway and added, “Please come in.”

Ryan, Justin, Nick, Bill, Zach, and Hermione entered the room and the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room moved back into place, hiding the archway from sight.

“Dobby,” Harry called out, moments before the elf popped in.

“Yes, Harry Potter, sir?” Dobby asked.  
“Welcome to Godric Gryffindor’s quarters, Dobby,” Harry said. “They’ll need cleaning, obviously.”

“Other house elves and I start immediately, Harry Potter, sir,” Dobby said, as he popped out for a moment, before popping back in, followed by about ten more house-elves, who immediately went to work cleaning Godric’s common room before moving on to the other rooms.

“Much better,” Harry said, as he looked around at the now clean room.

“I would have to agree,” a deep and unfamiliar voice said.

Turning to the sound of the voice, everyone saw the life-size portrait above the fireplace. It depicted a tall and muscular man, dressed in brilliant red robes accented in gold. Around the man’s waist was a black dragon hide belt, with a sheathed sword attached to it.

“I’m glad that my heir has finally found my quarters,” Godric said.

“Somehow, I doubt you’ll be glad for long,” Ryan said, as he noticed Rowena and Helga slip into the frame behind Godric.

“GODRIC BRYANT GRYFFINDOR!” Rowena yelled. “You are so lucky that I am only a portrait now and am incapable of performing magic, because if I could I would hex you into the next galaxy!”

“Rowena, my dear,” Godric said, “what in Merlin’s name has you so upset?”

“Oh as if you don’t know,” Helga said.

“Honestly, madam, I have no idea,” Godric said.

“We know what you did, Godric,” Rowena said, her voice lowering to her normal tone, but with a dangerous edge to it. “We know that you amended the Sorting Hat’s memories so that it would lie about Salazar.”

Godric remained quiet for several minutes, before he spoke, his voice just as dangerous sounding as Rowena’s, “That bastard had it coming to him! He killed Alaric and he deserved to be punished!”

“Godric, I cannot even begin to count the times,” Helga said, “that Rowena and I tried to get this through your thick skull in life. Alaric’s death was an accident! Salazar did not intend for it to happen and he felt horrible about Alaric’s death. Then, instead of comforting him, the man you claimed to love, you turned on him and blamed him for something that was not his fault.”

“It most certainly was his fault!” thundered Godric. “He should never have been giving Alaric potions lessons!”

“Godric, one could argue that if Salazar should not have been giving Alaric potions lessons,” Rowena said, “that you should not have been giving him weapon and Defense lessons.”

“That is entirely different, madam,” Godric said.

“How is it different?” Helga asked.

“Because I was using my private training room for Alaric’s lessons,” Godric said. “If you remember, I charmed the room so that no harm could come to anyone while they were in the room. I could have run Alaric through with a broadsword and no harm would have come to him!”

“Be that as it may, Godric,” Rowena said, “it still was not Salazar’s fault that Alaric died. Alaric made a mistake and combined two ingredients that Salazar specifically told him not to. If his death was anybody’s fault, it was his own, for disobeying his father, one of the greatest Potions Masters who ever lived.”

“Rowena, don’t you dare call Alaric his son!” Godric roared. “That bastard gave up his right to be called a father when he killed Alaric!”

“Enough!” Harry yelled, causing the three founders to turn and look at him. “Godric, I’m sure you loved Alaric, and that his passing upset you greatly, but that does not mean that you had any right to blame Salazar for something that was not his fault.”

“Rowena and Helga are one thing,” Godric growled. “But just who do you think you are to speak to me that way, boy?”

“Aarik James Potter,” Harry said, deciding to use his real name for the formal introduction to Godric. “I’m your last living heir.”

Godric’s demeanor got very imposing, as if he was trying to scare Harry, and growled out, “Again who are you to talk to me that way, boy?”

“As I said, I am your last living heir,” Harry answered. “And if you are trying to intimidate me, you really are going to have to try harder. I survived the Killing Curse at the age of one, killed my Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who was possessed by the spirit of the Dark Lord who killed my parents when I was 11, killed a basilisk with your sword when I was 12, and successfully cast the Patronus charm against hundreds of Dementors at 13. At 14, I competed in the Tri-Wizard Tournament and completed all three tasks, including getting an egg away from a full-grown Hungarian Horntail. I could go on, Godric, but honestly, I think by now my point should be clear. After everything I’ve already dealt with there is no way I am going to be intimidated by a portrait.”

“You do me proud boy,” Godric said. “It brings me great joy to know that my heir is so brave.”

“Actually, I was scared out of mind during quite a bit of that,” Harry said, “but I sucked it up and did what had to be done.”

“Well, Aarik, being brave does not mean that you can’t be afraid,” Godric said. “It is, however, a testament to the character of anyone who can do what must be done, even when they are afraid.”

“If you think complimenting my character is going to make me side with you,” Harry said, “don’t bet on it. I do not agree with what you did Godric and no matter how justified you think you were it was wrong to make a person seem like a cold and heartless bastard.”

“I have to agree,” Ryan said as he stepped forward. “I’m Ryan Cole Cromwell, by the way, Rowena’s heir. Because of this feud you had with Slytherin in life, the Gryffindor and Slytherin houses have been at odds with each other ever since. One could argue that the lies you implanted in the Sorting Hat can be blamed for the current state of affairs in the Wizarding World.”

“What do you mean current state of affairs?” Godric asked.

“We’re at war Godric,” Harry said. “We’re at war with the same Dark Lord who killed my parents and tried to kill me when I was only a year old. Voldemort is an evil and sadistic bastard who takes pleasure in torturing and murdering innocent people, simply because they’re Muggles, Muggleborns, or Half-Bloods. Voldemort was a Slytherin at Hogwarts, in fact, he’s an heir of Slytherin, who believes the lies about his ancestor that you made up and preaches how good those ideals are.”

“Well, let us not forget,” Nick said, “that according to the ‘Tome of the Founders’ my great-granduncle Tom is only sixteen. Last time I checked Voldemort is much older than sixteen.”

“Am I to understand that you are related to Salazar?” Godric asked.

“Yes, Godric, I am,” Nick responded. “I am Nickolas Phillipe Delaney, the Heir of Slytherin. Before finding out about your lies, I might have been ashamed of my connection to him, but after finding out about all of your lies, I’m not. In fact, I’m proud to be related to Salazar, because through Helga and Rowena, I’ve gotten a glimpse at the real Salazar and not the fake version that you’ve had the Sorting Hat talking about for over a thousand years.”

“Aarik, I demand that you get that boy out of my quarters!” Godric exclaimed. “Nobody who is related to Slytherin is welcome in these rooms!”

“As I said before, Godric,” Harry said, “I will not be intimidated by a portrait and while these quarters did once belong to you, they are mine now and I will not ask one of my best friends to leave just because you blame his however many times great-grandfather for your son’s death.”

“It’s okay, I was going to leave anyway,” Nick said. “I just hope you’re ready, Godric. Because when I leave this room, I intend to go directly to Salazar’s quarters and open them, thus lifting the protective magic holding his portrait inside and I doubt that he will be very happy with you when I tell him what you did.”

Not giving Godric the chance to say anything, Nick left the room, followed by everyone else. Of course, Rowena and Helga stayed to continue chewing Godric out.

* * *

Arriving in the dungeons, Nick led the group down past the blank wall that led into the Slytherin common room, turned the corner, and went down an easily missed flight of stairs in an alcove in the next corridor. Unlike the other founders’ quarters, where the entrance was on the same floor as their house common room, Slytherin’s was a floor below.

Nick continued walking until he was in the corridor directly under the corridor holding the entrance to the common room and he stopped where the entrance to Slytherin would be if he were one floor up. Raising his hand, Nickolas traced the letters of Salazar’s initials on the blank wall and then spoke each initial in Parseltongue.

The wall soon opened and Nick passed through the entrance, before inviting the others into the room. Calling for Dobby, the house-elves quickly cleaned up the common room before moving on to the other rooms. Nick couldn’t help but notice the look on Hermione’s face, which clearly said that she thought it was wrong for him to use the house-elves to clean Salazar’s quarters, but thankfully, she held her tongue.

“Ah, finally, my heir has found me,” a voice said and everyone turned to look at the portrait above the fireplace. The portrait depicted a tall, slender man with black hair and blue eyes, dressed from head to toe in green robes accented in silver. Harry couldn’t help but think that Salazar looked much more handsome in his portrait then his statue in the Chamber of Secrets would have suggested.

“Salazar Sebastian Slytherin, I assume,” Nick said in Parseltongue, figuring that his ancestor would appreciate the gesture. “Yes, I am your heir, Nickolas Phillipe Delaney.”

“Welcome to my quarters,” Slytherin said. “Who have you brought with you?”

Wrapping his arm around Bill’s waist, Nick said, “This is my boyfriend, Bill Weasley, the Hogwarts Potions Professor.”

“A bit young to be teaching potions,” Slytherin said. “I assume you haven’t been in the position long.”

“Well, I’m only 25,” Bill answered. “And no, I haven’t been in the position long, only since the beginning of this school year. The Headmaster transferred the former Potions professor into the Defense Against the Dark Arts job, so he brought me in to teach. I’m normally a curse-breaker for Gringotts’ Bank, but I did get an Outstanding Potions N.E.W.T.”

Slytherin nodded and then said, “And who are the others?”

Pointing at each in turn, Nick said, “Hermione Granger and Justin Finch-Fletchley. In addition to the Heirs of the other Founders: Ryan Cromwell, whose Rowena’s heir, Zacharias Smith, whose Helga’s heir, and Harry Potter, whose Godric’s heir.”

“You dare bring anyone related to Godric into my quarters?” Slytherin hissed in Parseltongue.

“Yes, he does,” hissed Harry at Slytherin in Parseltongue.

“How is that you as Godric’s heir can speak Parseltongue?” Slytherin demanded.

“Because Nick’s great-granduncle, Tom Riddle, also your heir, murdered my parents and then tried to kill me while I was only a baby in my crib. Unfortunately, for him it didn’t work and his Killing Curse rebounded against him instead of killing me. In so doing, he transferred some of his powers to me, including his ability to speak Parseltongue.”

“Ah, Tom Riddle,” Slytherin said in English, “the one who was foreseen to me who would open my Chamber of Secrets and release the basilisk against Godric’s heirs.”

“So you mean you bred the basilisk to destroy Godric’s heirs?” Hermione asked.

“Yes, Miss Granger,” Slytherin answered.

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you,” Hermione said, “but that is not the reason that Tom Riddle released the basilisk. He did it to purge the school of all Muggle-born students.”

“What?” Slytherin asked. “Nickolas, is this atrocity true?”

“He did it the first time long before I was born,” Nickolas answered “and the second time when he coerced another to do it for him I was a student at Beauxbatons, but yes, it’s true. The first time, a Muggle-born girl by the name of Myrtle was killed and the second time three students and the caretaker’s cat were petrified.”

“Hermione and I were two of the petrified students,” Justin said.

“I would never have bred the basilisk,” Slytherin said, “if I thought that my heir would use it to attack Muggle-born students. I bred it so that my heir would rid the world of Godric’s heirs.”

“Well, you wanted revenge on Godric,” Harry said, “and it seems that he also wanted revenge on you. He just went about his differently.”

“And what pray tell did Godric do?” Slytherin asked.

“Enchanted the Sorting Hat to lie about you,” Zach answered. “For over a thousand years now, every year at the Sorting Feast the Sorting Hat has sung a song which says that you were a cruel and sadistic bastard who believed that only purebloods were worthy of studying magic and that everyone else should be thrown out of Hogwarts.”

“Curse you Godric Bryant Gryffindor!” Slytherin screamed.

“Salazar, from what I’ve just heard, you don’t really have the right to throw stones,” Rowena said as she slipped into the frame. “I must admit that Helga and I both were quite angry with Godric for maligning your memory, but now to find out that you bred a basilisk to kill Godric’s heirs, I’m equally as angry with you.”

“Rowena, the man deserved it!” Salazar exclaimed. “Our son died and instead of being there for me, the man he claimed to love, he blamed me for Alaric’s death! It was like having my heart ripped out of my chest and stomped on. I did not kill Alaric; I could never hurt a hair on that precious boy’s head! I loved him and I did everything I could to save him, but he still died. I can’t tell you how many times I wished that it had been me instead of my beloved nine-year-old son!”

“I wish it had been you to, Salazar!” Godric shouted as he slipped into the frame, drew his sword and held the tip to Salazar’s throat.

“Stop it, stop it, stop it!” a voice cried out.

Everyone in the room, including the occupants of Salazar’s portrait looked around the room for the source of the voice. After a moment, a silvery cloud appeared in a corner of the room and formed into the ghost of a young boy.

Godric gasped and asked, “Alaric?”

“Yes, father,” answered Alaric’s ghost. “It’s me.”

“Why are you a ghost, Alaric?” Salazar asked.

“A lack of communication between my parents,” Alaric answered. “One of the spells that Father cast on me to try and save my life interacted with one of the potions that Dad used to save my life and basically insured that I would remain on Earth as a ghost.”

Godric lowered his sword and sheathed it, obviously not wanting to hold Salazar at sword point in front of their son, even if it was only his ghost.

“I know you probably won’t believe me,” Alaric said, “but it was my fault that I died, Father. Dad told me repeatedly not to mix dragon’s blood with phoenix tears, but I did it anyway and the resulting explosion was the cause of my death.”

“He should never have had the opportunity!” Godric exclaimed. “If Salazar hadn’t been giving you private lessons, you wouldn’t have died.”

“Oh please, that’s an excuse and you know it,” Alaric said. “The private lessons were your idea, in case you forgot. You told dad that you were going to tutor me in Defense Against the Dark Arts so that I would be ahead of my year when I started school. When Dad announced his intentions to do the same in Potions, you encouraged him to do it, because it did your pride a favor to think that your son would be one of the most advanced students in his year.”

Godric looked ready to say something, but his retort fell silent on his lips as he thought about it for a moment and then said, “Oh my Gods, you’re right. I did encourage him. In fact, the night before he made the announcement I suggested he do it while we were... well, doing things.”

“It’s okay to say it, father,” Alaric said. “You suggested it while you were having sex. Oh don’t look so shocked, while it’s true that I was only nine when I died, I’ve learned quite a bit lurking around this castle for the last thousand years and I know all about what people in love do with one another in the privacy of their bedrooms.”

Everyone in the room was silent for several minutes, until finally Alaric spoke again, “I’m ashamed of the way both of you acted. You loved each other so much and then I died and you were so caught up in anger over my death that you both did atrocious things. Unfortunately, Dad, your actions have brought forth an even worse evil then you intended.”

“What do you mean, Alaric?” Nickolas asked.

“You all heard him say that it was foreseen to him that Tom Riddle would be the one to open his Chamber and release the basilisk,” Alaric answered. “What he didn’t mention was who foresaw that, because I guarantee, it wasn’t Dad, because Divination was never one of his strong points.”

“What does he have to do with anything?” Slytherin asked.

“Quite a bit, actually,” Alaric answered. “You see, Dad, Tom Riddle was a boy pure of heart, who found out about your Chamber and what it contained. He searched it out, opened it, and took a rooster with him, fully intending to kill the basilisk so that it couldn’t harm anyone. He didn’t count on finding him there though.”

“You mean?” Slytherin asked.

“Yes, Dad,” Alaric answered. “I mean Voldemort. When he helped you breed that basilisk and to place the necessary enchantments to keep it alive long enough for Tom to find it, he cast extra spells that would allow him to return to the Chamber upon Tom’s arrival. He killed the rooster, imprisoned Tom under the Dark Arts prison version of the Time Suspension charm, and then assumed Tom’s identity.”

“Oh Gods, what have I done?” Slytherin asked. “What have I done?”

“I’ll tell you exactly what you did, Dad,” Alaric said. “You summoned the devil Voldemort out of the pits of the Hells to help you breed a basilisk and keep it alive until your heir found it. The only thing you didn’t count on was that Voldemort would cast extra charms that would allow him to return, without the binding charms you placed to control him and force him to do your bidding.

“Now, Voldemort is loose on Earth and is waging a war against both the Wizarding and Muggle worlds in an attempt to spread so much evil that he will succeed in turning Earth into the Tenth Hell. Because as I’m sure you must have read in those Demonology books you studied before summoning him, he who rules the deepest Hell, rules them all!”

“Oh Gods, oh Gods, what have I done?” Slytherin repeated. “What have I done?”

* * *

To be continued...


	22. Chapter 22

Harry Potter and the Return of the Heirs  
By J.C. Vascardi

* * *  
Chapter Twenty-Two  
* * *

Draco’s Journal – Saturday, November 2, 1996

Blaise has suspected it for awhile, but earlier this evening he finally got the proof to back up his suspicions: he knows that I like Harry Potter.

Our dorm room was empty and we were both in a lustful mood, so Blaise and I lay down on his bed, charmed the curtains shut, put up a silencing charm, stripped and went at it. As usual, the sex was good, I admit, of course as has become a habit for me, I was also not thinking about Blaise while doing it.

I suspect that Blaise doesn’t think about me when we’re doing it either, but I’ve never been able to get even the slightest hint out of him as to whom he might be fantasizing about. On the other hand, Blaise has always suspected that there was something more to my feelings for Harry then just hate. He told me once that I was so passionate in my hatred of Harry that he had to wonder if it was actually love that I was feeling and was misreading the emotion as hate.

He also even asked me once if his physical characteristics were the reason that I chose him as my lover, considering that he has the same hair and eye color as Harry. I told him at the time that it had absolutely nothing to do with it. He doesn’t believe me anymore though. Not that I blame him though, because unlike all the other times in the past that I’ve fantasized about Harry while having sex with Blaise there was a distinct difference this time: I said Harry’s name when I came.

I suppose the knowledge that their lover was thinking about somebody else while having sex with them would hurt most people greatly, but Blaise just grinned and accepted it like it was nothing. He told me that he was fine with it because we aren’t in love with another and he wasn’t going to hold it against me because he admitted that he doesn’t think about me during sex, though he again dodged the question of who he does think about.

I really don’t know why I let him, considering that he was being less than forthcoming with his own thoughts, but I let him give me the third degree and gave him all the juicy details of my fantasies about Harry. Of course, I’ve kept them bottled up inside for so long, that maybe it just felt good to finally talk to someone about them. Someone I knew wouldn’t think I was a blood traitor for loving a half-blood.

Very few people in the Slytherin dungeons would be okay with the idea of a pureblood and a half-blood getting together, because the pureblood ideology is very strong in Slytherin house. I can’t help but wonder though if such ideology actually existed before Godric Gryffindor amended the Sorting Hat’s memories to malign Salazar Slytherin’s name. Rowena and Helga both insist that there is no difference between purebloods, half-bloods, and muggle-borns, that each of them has the same magical ability as the others. If that was common knowledge, then I fail to see where the pureblood ideology of the others being inferior came from. I can only imagine how everyone on the Dark Lord’s side would react if they knew that they were actually clinging to an ideology created by Godric Gryffindor, rather than Salazar Slytherin.

I’ve gotten off track here, haven’t I? Of course, it’s probably because I simply am trying to avoid writing what is floating through my head, as if writing it will make it even more real. I love Harry Potter, but I have always thought that there is no way that he could love me in return. Now, I’m even more convinced of that fact. Of course, his name is actually Aarik Potter, as I’ve recently found out, which gives me even more reason to believe that he could never return my feelings. He’s the heir of Godric Gryffindor and as such, a member of one of the most powerful and famous wizading lines in existence, how could he ever love me?

* * *

Back in Salazar’s quarters, everyone stood in silence for several minutes, not sure what to say. Of course, it was quite a shock to be sure. Finally, Nick broke the silence by asking, “Rowena, could you go and tell the Headmaster that we’re coming?”

“Of course, Nick,” Rowena said as she disappeared from Salazar’s frame.

“Helga, if you could please go to the guest quarters and get my father, I would really appreciate it. Tell him to meet us at the gargoyle.”

“My pleasure, Ryan,” Helga said as she too left Salazar’s frame.

“I’m going to go float somewhere,” Alaric said, as he looked at his parents, who were doing their best to act like the other didn’t exist. “I don’t like seeing them act like that. It’s not as bad as when they were alive, when they could barely even see each other without wanting to kill one another, but it’s still painful to see. At least now they can’t kill each other.”

Alaric sighed and floated up through the ceiling of the room and disappeared.

“Godric, Salazar,” Harry said. “We’re going to the Headmaster’s office, if you would please join us? It’s in the original Astronomy Tower, the one with the gargoyle that Helga charmed.”

Godric and Salazar both nodded and then marched out of Salazar’s frame in opposite directions.

“You think those two will ever make up?” Nick asked.

“I have no idea,” Harry answered. “Anyway, let’s go see Dumbledore.”

* * *

Dating a professor had certain advantages, one of them being that unlike the last visit to the Headmaster’s office, time did not have to be wasted trying to guess Dumbledore’s password, because Bill knew it.

Arriving in the Headmaster’s office, everyone sat down in the chairs that Dumbledore conjured and, as usual, the Headmaster made his normal offer of tea or lemon drops. Nobody accepted.

“I’m sorry Corelian couldn’t make it,” Asheera said. “He was busy talking to Erevan about some important matters of state when Helga came, so I didn’t want to bother him.”

“It’s okay,” Ryan said. “I was just hoping that my father might be a bit more knowledgeable about the topic at hand.”

“Corelian is indeed a very smart man,” Asheera said. “Of course most Atlanteans are. We’re very studious by nature and when you live as long as we do, you have plenty of time to cram tons of information into your brain.”

“So, if I may ask, what brings you to my office, tonight?” Dumbledore asked.

“Some interesting information has come to light,” Nick answered, as he relayed everything that Alaric had told them.

“Tom Riddle and Voldemort are not the same being?” Dumbledore asked, clearly shocked.

“Hmm, seems Teryn was right,” Asheera commented.

“Who is Teryn?” Ryan asked.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” replied Asheera. “I’m referring to my brother-in-law, Lord Teryn, the Master of the Death Sphere. He commented a few months ago that there was a lesser devil born in the Fourth Hell roughly three-thousand years ago named Voldemort and wondered if your Dark Lord was one in the same. We just dismissed it though when we realized that Tom Riddle’s full name spelled ‘I am Lord Voldemort’ by rearranging the letters. We thought it nothing more than a coincidence.”

“So, there really is a devil named Voldemort then?” Hermione asked.

“Yes, there is,” confirmed Asheera. “Demonology is one aspect of the Death Sphere, so if anyone would know about all the devils in the Hells, it’s Teryn. Of course, as Mistress of the Life Sphere, I also know quite a bit about the Death Sphere, as it is common practice for Circle members to master their own sphere but also to study their opposing sphere.”

“So Voldemort is trying to turn Earth into a Hell so he can take over the Hells?” Zach asked.

“Yes, that would be a common goal among the devils of the Hells,” Asheera said. “Devils are a power-hungry bunch and there isn’t a devil in existence that hasn’t at some point in their life thought about trying to overthrow the King of the Hells and take over.”

“How would one go about turning Earth into a Hell?” Justin asked. “Is such a thing even possible?”

“Oh yes, it is definitely possible,” Asheera said. “Evil sown on the Mortal Plane by a devil is very potent and when enough evil has been done, the Mortal Plane will begin it’s descent into the Hells, before finally, it ceases to be the Mortal Plane. That’s why there are Nine Hells, because the Mortal Plane has been turned into a Hell eight times in history. Earth is the current Mortal Plane and has been for millions of years, but before Earth, the Mortal Plane was Nessus, which is now the Ninth Hell, ruled by Asmodeus, the King of the Hells.”

“What do you mean the Mortal Plane?” Bill asked.

“The world that is inhabited by mortal beings,” Asheera answered. “There’s only ever one of them at a time and Earth has been the Mortal Plane for a longer period then any other. Of course, that’s mainly because one of the first things that Asmodeus did as King was to chain all of the other Archdevils of the Hells and the greater devils who he judged as being a threat to their native Hells.”

“Chained them?” Harry asked.

“Well, cast very powerful binding magic,” Asheera said. “Magic that would make it impossible for them to leave of their own free will the Hell that they’re the ruler of in terms of the Archdevils, or the Hell they were born in for the greater devils. I can only assume that Asmodeus did not view a lesser devil like Voldemort to be enough of a threat to him to bind him.”

“So, why did Voldemort create a fake Tom Riddle?” Dumbledore asked. “Why would he take the time to possess anyone?”

“Well, he possessed a fake Tom Riddle to prevent Asmodeus from finding out he was on Earth,” Asheera said. “Anytime any devil is summoned out of the Hells to the Mortal Plane, the King will know about it in a matter of a few minutes. He won’t do anything if he senses that the devil is encased in binding magic to force them to do someone’s bidding, but as Voldemort summoned himself to Earth, he can’t appear in his true form or Asmodeus would find out and force him to return.”

“So he will always have to possess someone?” Nick asked. “He can never appear in his true form?”

“No, actually now he probably could,” Asheera answered after taking a moment to think. “In order to appear in his true form, Voldemort would have to bind himself to the Mortal Plane. I could be wrong, but I think his way of doing that is through the Dark Marks that he placed on the Death Eaters. Those Dark Marks bind the Death Eaters to him, which would prevent Asmodeus from forcing Voldemort to return.”

“How would that stop him?” Dumbledore asked. “Isn’t the King of the Hells supposed to be nearly omnipotent?”

“Yes, as King, Asmodeus is definitely a force to be reckoned with,” Asheera said. “He’s one of the very few creatures in existence who would stand a chance, however slim, of actually winning a duel with the one of the Lesser Gods. However, no matter how powerful he is, he is still required to follow certain rules imposed by Zeus. One of those rules is that he cannot force anyone into the Hells that was not born in the Hells.

“According to the scrolls in Atlantis, Zeus made that rule about three thousand years ago. The Lord of the Seventh Hell is constantly at war with the Lords of the Second and Eighth Hells, so as a means to try to keep his army of souls replenished, he created a powerful artifact resembling the veil that a widow might wear to a funeral. Anyone who fell through it would be cast down into the Seventh Hell to serve as a member of his army. Zeus then put the Archdevils of the Hells on notice that any future activities of that kind would not be tolerated, but for reasons known only to him, he allowed the Lord of the Seventh to keep his veil.”

“Veil?” Harry asked, as he looked at Dumbledore. The old man instantly knew what Harry was thinking and asked, “Is it known what happened to the veil?”

“They aren’t sure,” Asheera said, “but many of the Atlantean scholars think that it is actually now in the possession of one of the European Ministries of Magic, they don’t know which one though.”

Dumbledore, Hermione, and Bill all cast concerned looks at Harry at this revelation, because if it was true, then that meant...

“Sirius is in the Seventh Hell?” Harry asked.

“Sirius?” Asheera asked.

“My dead godfather,” Harry said. “Last year, there was a battle in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic, and during the course of that battle, Sirius was dueling with a Death Eater and he fell through a veil in what is known as the Death Room.”

“Describe the veil,” Asheera said.

“It’s like a tattered black curtain,” Harry said. “I suppose it could be made of the same type of material as a widow’s veil. It hangs from a crumbling stone archway. It flutters ever so slightly as if there was a breeze blowing it, but the air in the room is cold and still. I could hear voices from beyond it when I got close to it.”

Asheera visibly paled and then laid her hand on Harry’s in a comforting gesture, before she said, “Then I am sorry to say, that the veil your godfather fell through is indeed the Veil of Baazlebul, created by the Lord of the Seventh Hell.”

* * *

Meanwhile, in a corridor on the sixth floor, Draco Malfoy was on patrol as a part of his prefect duties. Normally, he would be with another prefect, but tonight Ron Weasley was his assigned partner. Obviously, the two boys were not about to work together, and they both split up as soon as possible.

What Draco did not know, however, was that instead of doing his patrol, Ron had been shadowing him for the last hour, using Harry’s invisibility cloak and the Marauder’s Map to make sure he wasn’t caught. Ron was simply biding his time for the right moment, before he cast the charm that would set his revenge against Malfoy in motion.

* * *

“So, Sirius is in the Seventh Hell?” Hermione asked. “Fighting an eternal war?”

“Yes,” Asheera said. “Baazlebul has been at war with the Archdevil Mephistopheles, the Lord of the Eighth, for millennia now and by extension the Archdevil Dispater, Lord of the Second, who is allied with Mephistopheles. The war between them will likely never end, unless Asmodeus orders them to end it, and it’s doubtful that he would do such a thing.”

Harry remained quiet through all of this, but there were still some questions that the group needed answers to, so Zach asked, “How would the Dark Marks prevent Asmodeus from forcing Voldemort’s return?”

“Well, as I said the Dark Marks bind Voldemort to the Death Eaters,” Asheera answered. “Other than the Veil of Baazlebul, the only way for living people to end up in the Hells is for one of the Lords of the Nine to summon them to the Hells and they can’t do that unless the person was born in the Hells. So, since Voldemort is bound to hundreds of living souls not born in the Hells, Asmodeus cannot force him to return to the Hells, without also forcing all of the Death Eaters to come to the Hells, which he can’t do because they were not born there.”

“What would happen if Asmodeus did it anyway?” Ryan asked.

“He would never do that,” Asheera said. “But, if he did, then Mephistopheles would become King of the Hells, because Zeus would destroy both Asmodeus and the Ninth Hell, which would make Cania, the Eighth Hell, the deepest of the Hells.”

“Is there anyway that we could see the real Tom Riddle?” Nick asked, curious about his ancestor, who due to the nature of Tom’s prison, he was now technically a year older than. “See him without alerting Voldemort?”

Asheera got thoughtful for a moment, as if thinking, but Salazar beat her to the punch.

“Yes, Nick,” answered Salazar. “In my private potions lab, there is a book containing all of my most secret potions recipes. Among them is a recipe for a potion that combined with the right spell would allow us to see Tom Riddle in his prison, without alerting Voldemort. Due to the nature of the prison variant of the Time Suspension charm though, we would need a few drops of blood from someone in Voldemort’s service in order to see Tom.”

“As luck would have it,” Dumbledore said, “my Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Severus Snape, formerly the Potions professor and the Head of Slytherin House is a marked Death Eater. Of course, unknown to Voldemort he works for me as a spy.”

“Then we just need to brew the potion,” Salazar said, “and get Professor Snape to agree to donate a few drops of his blood. Many of the potion’s ingredients are very rare, but that is not a problem in my private potions lab, because I charmed it so that it would have an infinite supply of every non-plant ingredient in existence. I relied on Helga’s greenhouse for the plant ingredients to ensure freshness.”

“If only you could have charmed it so that nobody could get hurt,” Godric muttered.

“Don’t start, Godric,” Harry said, speaking for the first time in several minutes. “We don’t have time to deal with your petty rivalry with Salazar.”

“Aarik, my son died,” Godric said. “I would hardly call that petty.”

“I don’t mean to sound insensitive,” Harry said. “But, Godric, Alaric died over a thousand years ago. For that matter, so did you.”

“What is your point, Aarik?” Godric asked.

“My point is that it’s in the past and you can argue with Salazar from now until the end of time, but it will not change anything.”

“Harry is right,” agreed Bill, “Therefore, I propose that instead of arguing with Salazar, you do something constructive, such as helping all of us to stop Voldemort from achieving his goal. Is that really too much to ask?”

Godric sighed and said, “No, I suppose it isn’t. I’m only a portrait though; I fail to see how I can be of much use.”

“Don’t be daft, Godric,” Helga said. “We have all of our memories and we still have all the knowledge we accumulated in life. We can help by imparting that knowledge.”

“Helga is right, Godric,” Rowena said. “Just because we’re portraits, doesn’t mean we can’t help. We’re the ones who built this castle, after all, so we know all of its secrets. Secrets, I’m sure, that even Professor Dumbledore, as the Headmaster, is unaware of. We may not be able to offer any physical help, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t help in other ways.”

“Yes, you’re right,” Godric said. “Aarik, perhaps you can find a use for my private armory and training room. The armory is charmed to have any weapon or armor you could ever want. The training room is charmed so that nobody can get hurt in the room, whether it is from a weapon or by spell. Even the Unforgivables can’t harm anyone in my training room.”

“You found a way to protect against the Unforgivables?” Harry asked. “Is that why I didn’t die when Voldemort cast the Killing Curse on me when I was a baby?”

“Aarik, I have no idea how you survived it,” Godric said. “By all accounts, you should be dead, because a one-year-old wizard should not have been capable of rebounding spells. As for my training room, it took almost forty years, but I finally managed to charm it in such a way that offensive spells lose their effectiveness when cast in the room. The Killing Curse will still knock the person hit by it unconscious, but the Enervate charm will reverse it with no major damage; perhaps a concussion and headache, depending on how and where the person landed when they lost consciousness, but that’s about it.”

“Would it be possible to put similar protections elsewhere?” Dumbledore asked.

“Theoretically, yes,” Godric said. “However, it can only be done in indoor areas and then the spells involved get increasingly more difficult and time consuming depending on the size of the area. For my training room, it took me twenty-one hours of non-stop casting to charm it and then even with numerous doses of the magic restorative draft, I was still out of commission for three full days as I recovered from the exhaustion and the drain on my powers.”

“Rowena taught some of us how to simultaneous cast spells,” Justin said. “Wouldn’t it lessen the strain if multiple wizards and witches, for example all of the professors, worked together to cast the spells?”

“It’s certainly possible,” Godric said. “I probably should have asked at least one of the other founders or professors to help me when I cast the spells on my training room, but then, I wasn’t ready to share my spell research with anyone, so I went at it alone.”

“Do you think it would be possible to adapt your spells?” Dumbledore asked. “Perhaps, to infuse clothing with the protections on your training room, for example?”

“Possibly,” Godric said, “I never tried it or did any research on infusing clothing with the protections, so I can’t give a definite answer.”

Before anyone else could say anything, the fireplace whooshed into activity and Valen’s face appeared in the flames.

“Is something wrong, Valen?” Dumbledore asked.

“Yes, Albus,” Valen said. “I just brought young Mr. Malfoy into the hospital wing. I found him in a corridor on the sixth floor, lying in a pool of blood. I don’t know what happened, but he’s lost quite a bit of blood and he’s in critical condition. Madame Pomfrey and Severus are doing everything they can, but we could use some more help,” as he said that last part, Valen looked pointedly at his sister.

“I’m on my way,” Asheera said as she stood.

Valen nodded and disappeared from the flames, but left the connection open so that Asheera could Floo directly to the hospital wing.

“I assume you are skilled in healing magic?” Dumbledore asked.

“Yes, Albus, I am,” Asheera answered. “Healing magic is a very large part of the Life Sphere.”

“Will you be able to help Draco?” Harry asked.

“I don’t know, to be honest,” Asheera said. “I don’t even know exactly what happened to him, but I’ll do my best to assist in any way I can.”

Not wanting to waste anymore time, Asheera quickly made her way over to the Floo and stepped into the flames.

* * *

Twenty minutes earlier, in a corridor on the sixth floor, Ron Weasley decided that the time was right to cast the spell to get his revenge on Draco. The other boy had his back to Ron, as he parted the cloak, raised his wand, and whispered, “Discrucio!”

Almost immediately, Draco grabbed his head, as his mind was flooded with hellish memories and nightmares that he would rather forget. In the back of his mind, he knew that he a curse must be the cause of it, but with the horrible images pushed to the forefront of his mind, everything from his father’s abuse to watching his mother’s death, he couldn’t think about anything else.

Draco dropped to his knees and started to cry as the mental onslaught continued in an endless loop, repeating every single bad memory, even memories he hadn’t given any thought to in years. Ron laughed softly as he put his wand back in his pocket and slipped behind a tapestry that hid a stairwell up to the seventh floor corridor above.

Arriving on the seventh floor, Ron looked at the map to try to find Harry, hoping that he was not in Gryffindor Tower and thus perhaps wondering where his cloak and map where. Finding Harry in the Headmaster’s office, Ron breathed a sigh of relief as he tapped the map with his wand and said, “Mischief managed,” before folding it back up and tucking it into his pocked. He then removed the cloak and hid it under his robes as he made his way to Gryffindor Tower.

If only Ron had been looking at the section of the map where Draco was instead of looking for Harry, he would have seen the name of the person approaching Draco.

“I always thought you were a weak little bastard, Malfoy,” the voice said. “Finding you here crying your eyes out only proves I was right.”

The voice paused for a moment before it said, “You are a disgrace to wizarding kind and I’m going to make you pay for that.”

Wand held aloft, the person that the voice belonged to and cast a spell which caused a jet of sickly yellow light to hit Draco as he fell backwards to the ground, bleeding. The assailant simply laughed before slipping away.

* * *

Arriving in the hospital wing, Asheera rolled up her sleeves and strode forward, ready to help however she could.

“What happened to him?” she asked.

“It appears as though he’s been hit by two Dark curses,” Severus said. “The Discrucio curse and the Eviscero curse.”

“Any idea which of the spells was cast first?” Asheera asked.

“Does it matter?” Valen asked.

“No, not really,” Asheera said. “I just can’t imagine why anyone would cast both curses on someone. Why cast a spell meant to torture them mentally and then cast a curse that causes their skin to be torn apart in bloody gashes that continually reopen over and over again?”

“I admit it does seem a bit strange,” Severus said, “but at the moment I find trying to make sure my godson doesn’t die to be a priority.”

“Of course,” Asheera said as she watched Severus and Pomfrey working feverishly. “That is as it should be, Professor Snape. At any rate, I shall help in any way that I can.”

“It might help if you actually had your wand out,” Severus said as he looked up at Asheera as he poured a potion into Draco’s mouth.

“I don’t need one,” Asheera said, and at the look she got from both Severus and Poppy, she added, “I’ll explain later when Mr. Malfoy’s life is not hanging in the balance.”

That seemed to placate Severus and the nurse, who both went back to their work. As Asheera stood next to the bed and positioned her hands a few inches above a particularly nasty gash across Draco’s chest, she began chanting in an ancient Atlantean dialect. Valen and Asheera herself were the only ones in the room who actually understood what she was saying, but understanding it wasn’t important, as long as it helped Draco.

* * *

To be continued...


	23. Chapter 23

Harry Potter and the Return of the Heirs  
By J.C. Vascardi

* * *  
Chapter Twenty-Three  
* * *

It wasn’t an easy task, but after hours of feverish spell casting, Draco’s wounds were healed. Severus poured two more potions into Draco’s mouth, a Blood Replenishing potion and a Dreamless Sleep potion, before falling into a nearby chair, completely exhausted. Poppy and Asheera sat down nearby and one could clearly see the exhaustion that both of them felt.

“Thank heavens he’s going to be okay,” Poppy said.

“Yes,” Severus said as he gazed at Asheera speculatively. “That was some fancy spell work you exhibited and without a wand.”

“You mustn’t let this leave the room,” Asheera said, “but Atlanteans are masters of Wandless Magic. Professor Dumbledore wants Valen to teach a course on it to a select group of students at some future date, so we’re keeping it a secret.”

“Most likely a good idea,” Severus nodded. “I suppose Potter will be one of the select students.”

“We didn’t discuss who would be in the class,” Valen said, as he sat down on a nearby empty bed, “but yes, I assume that Mr. Potter will be in the class. I should think all of the heirs will be.”

“What do you mean all the heirs?” Poppy asked. “Have they been discovered?”

“Oh, I forgot it wasn’t common knowledge yet,” Valen said in a sheepish voice. “Yes, all four of the heirs are known to the Headmaster and a select group of students close to the heirs themselves.”

“Well, who are the heirs?” Severus asked.

“Ryan Cromwell is Ravenclaw’s heir,” Asheera answered. “Zacharias Smith is Hufflepuff’s heir, Nicolas Delaney is Slytherin’s heir, and Harry Potter is Gryffindor’s heir.”

“It figures that Potter would be Gryffindor’s heir,” Severus said rather bitterly.

“I sense you don’t like Mr. Potter,” Asheera said.  
“Oh really and what was your first clue?” Severus asked sarcastically.

“I haven’t known him long,” Asheera said, “but he seems like a perfectly lovely young man to me.”

Severus made a grumbling noise, but otherwise said nothing and Asheera decided it best to drop it.

* * *

Early the next morning, Ryan was sitting at the head of the dining room table in Rowena’s private quarters. Matthew, Oliver, Justin, and Corelian were sitting around the table with him, enjoying the breakfast that Dobby had brought up for them.

“Matt, Oliver, there was something I wanted to talk to you about,” Ryan said.

“What’s that, Ry?” Oliver asked.

“I wanted to talk to you about your wedding,” Ryan asked. “I want to sponsor the two of you so that you can legally marry in Atlantis.”

Matt got a confused look on his face and said, “What are you talking about, Ry?”

“Well, you know I’m Half-Atlantean,” Ryan said, to which both Matt and Oliver nodded. “Well, what you might not know is what that means. Atlanteans are eternally youthful and very long lived. As a Half-Atlantean, dad and Asheera tell me that I can expect to live an average of 500 plus years.”

“Damn, 500 plus years?” Matt asked, clearly shocked. “Wow. That’s quite awhile.”

“Yes, well, it’ll also be rather painful,” said Ryan. “I mean, watching people I love grow old and die, while I stay young and alive. That’s why I want to sponsor the two of you.”

“What do you mean sponsor us?” Oliver asked.

“Sponsor you so that you can get married in Atlantis,” Ryan answered. “I’d have to donate a few drops of blood and you two would have to agree to an Atlantean wedding ceremony and wear the traditional Atlantean wedding jewelry, but in turn, you’ll both have my eternal youth and lifespan. Then I won’t have to watch you get old and die, so I’m really hoping you’ll agree.”

“Well,” Oliver said, “Ryan, we’re honored to be asked and all, but Matt and I were planning on being bonded.”

“Bonded?” Corelian asked. “Are you referring to the completely idiotic and totally selfish human wizarding practice of going through a soul-bonding ritual?”

“Yes, he was,” confirmed Matt. “And I don’t think it’s idiotic and selfish.”  
“Yes, actually it is, Matthew,” Corelian said. “Answer me this question, if you please. Do you and Oliver plan on having children?”

“We haven’t really talked about it,” Matthew said, “but, yes, I think I’d like to have children at some point. What about you, Oliver?”

“Yes, I want to,” Oliver said. “I’m an only child myself, so I’ve always wanted a few kids. I always thought that seven was a good number, because then the kids could have their own Quidditch team.”

“So, let me get this straight,” said Corelian. “You intend to bring seven children into this world after performing a soul-bonding ritual that will bind your souls together for eternity?”

“Well, I’m not sure on the seven kid part,” Matt said as he looked at Oliver, “but then again if it makes Olli happy then I’d probably be amenable to it. But, yeah, we want to have kids and do the soul-bonding ritual.”

“Then you are both selfish idiots,” Corelian said, “and you will be barred from marrying in Atlantis if you go through with that ritual.”

“Why are we selfish idiots?” Matthew and Oliver asked in unison.

“Think about it for a minute, would you?” Corelian said. “The soul-bonding ritual you wish to partake in would bind your souls together for eternity. However, your souls being bonded poses one very distinct problem: if one of you dies, the other one will also die. Now, hypothetically speaking, Oliver is playing in a Quidditch match, is hit with a Bludger, falls off his broom, and dies of a broken neck. That means that, you, Matthew will also instantly drop dead.”

Ryan got a sudden look of understanding as he realized where his father was going with this and said, “The soul-bonding is a bad idea because if you have children and the unthinkable happens and one of you dies, both of you will die, leaving your children orphaned.”

Corelian nodded and said, “Yes, Ryan, that’s exactly right. The soul-bonding will insure that neither of you has to spend a single second alive without the other. It will not take into consideration the fact that you may have young children who depend on you. If the scenario I’ve mentioned played out and Oliver broke his neck in a Quidditch accident and died, you would die instantly Matthew. You could be in the middle of feeding your newborn baby a bottle and you would drop dead, leaving him or her helpless and unprotected.”

Matthew and Oliver turned to look at one another, the color draining from both of their faces, as they had obviously never even thought of such a scenario when discussing their plans for the future. Finally, Matthew said, “You know, I never really thought of that. I mean, the idea of the soul-bonding seems romantic and like the ultimate commitment, but when you put it that away, I can see why you say that it’s idiotic and selfish.”

“Well, I mean no offense,” Corelian said, “but you short-lived humans can be rather short-sighted at times. You tend to live in the moment, without really considering the ramifications of your actions. I’m not trying to say that Atlanteans are superior, because we certainly have our shortcomings, but our long life spans do force us to look at the big picture a bit more often.”

“Hmm, well, then,” said Oliver, “the soul-bonding is definitely out. So, what exactly is involved in an Atlantean wedding ceremony?”

“It’s basically the same as a human ceremony,” Corelian answered. “There are a few differences of course, the biggest being the jewelry involved. There’s more jewelry involved then a human ceremony, but it is acceptable for those who prefer not to wear much jewelry to use concealment charms to hide it from sight.”

“What kind of jewelry?” Ryan asked.

“One moment, I’ll be right back,” Corelian said as he stood and walked out of the dining room.

* * *

Covered with his invisibility cloak, Harry made his way down to the entrance to the Hospital Wing. Looking on the map, Harry could see that Draco was alone in the room. Madame Pomfrey was in Professor Dumbledore’s office, so Harry was confident that he could spend a little time with Draco, undisturbed.

Entering the room, Harry stepped into a shadowy corner, removed his cloak, deactivated the map, and stowed them both in an inner pocket of his robe. Walking over to Draco’s bed, Harry could see that the blond was sleeping peacefully.

‘I was so worried about you,’ Harry thought as he looked at the blond; he wasn’t sure if he should talk, for fear of waking the boy.

Pulling out his wand, Harry performed a simple diagnostic spell that Madame Pomfrey had taught them in the Basics of Battlefield Medicine group.

“Ah, Dreamless Sleep potion,” Harry said. “You’ll be out of it for awhile yet.”

Even with the knowledge that Draco wouldn’t awaken anytime soon, Harry simply pulled up a chair, sat down next to the bed, and just began to watch the blond’s chest rising and falling. He was so mesmerized by the movement that he didn’t notice the other person enter the room.

* * *

Since he didn’t have his wand yet, Corelian exited the dining room in order to perform the countercharms for the concealment spells that he wore on his jewelry. He had never been much of a man for jewelry, but the Atlantean marriage rites had three main pieces of jewelry, plus two other optional pieces. Both Corelian and Asheera wore all five pieces of jewelry, but some couples chose to use only the main three.

Taking a few minutes to make it seem like he had gone to use the restroom, Corelian returned to the dining room and sat back down.  
“Sorry about that, call of nature,” Corelian lied, as the others just nodded. Ryan knew that his father was lying, but Matthew and Oliver had no reason to suspect Corelian of any duplicity.

“So, what jewelry is involved in an Atlantean ceremony?” Ryan asked again.

“Similar to human weddings,” Corelian said as he held out both of his hands, “there are rings involved. Although, humans usually only wear a ring on the third finger of the left hand, whereas Atlanteans wear a ring on the third finger of both.”

On Corelian’s hands, Matthew, Oliver, and Ryan could see a pair of fancy silver rings, engraved with what they assumed to be a family crest, although the crests on the two rings were different. The crests were surrounded by a circle of alternating diamonds and rubies.

“As you probably noticed,” Corelian said, “the engravings on the rings are different. The engraving on the left ring is the Laitannen family crest and the engraving on the right ring is the Lasinius family crest. A marriage is after all a combining of two families, so in Atlantis, we feel that married couples should wear the crests of not only their own family, but also their partner’s family.”

“So, is that the only difference in the jewelry?” Matt asked. “That you wear a ring on both hands, instead of a ring on only the left hand?”

“No, actually it isn’t,” Corelian said. “There are actually three mandatory pieces of jewelry which are worn by every couple, plus two optional pieces that don’t have to be worn, but the couple must decide if they are going to wear the optional pieces at the wedding because all of the jewelry has a spell cast on the pieces to prevent them from ever coming off.”

“So, you mean you can’t take those rings off?” Ryan asked.

“No, I can’t,” Corelian said. “The only way that the rings and the other jewelry will come off is if Asheera were to die. In Atlantis, there is no such thing as divorce. Death is the only thing that can dissolve an Atlantean marriage, so you have to be very sure that the person you are committing to truly is the person you want to spend your life with. Because once the ceremony is over, you will not be able to change your mind.”

“So, what is the third piece of mandatory jewelry?” Oliver asked.

Pushing back his left sleeve, Corelian held out his arm to reveal a silver bracelet that was engraved with both the Laitannen and Lasinius crests, in addition to another crest in the center.

“The center crest is the official seal of the Kingdom of Atlantis,” Corelian explained. “It’s engraved on the bracelet as a way of signifying that the two households have officially been joined together according to the laws and customs of Atlantis. Now, in addition to the spells cast to prevent the jewelry from coming off, each piece has an additional spell that provides the couple with certain benefits.”  
“What kind of benefits?” Matt asked.

“The ring bearing one’s own family crest,” Corelian said, “allows one partner to always know where their partner is, so that they can Apparate to their location. The ring bearing your partner’s family crest imparts the ability to use any special abilities possessed by your partner. As an example, as Slytherin’s heir, Nick Delaney can speak Parseltongue. If he married in Atlantis, his partner would also be able to speak Parseltongue. In the case of Animagi, the ring allows married couples to transform into their own Animagus form but also their partners’.”

“If a person gains a new special ability after the wedding,” Oliver asked, “would their partner automatically be able to use it as well?”

“No,” Corelian said. “Only the special abilities that existed at the time of the ceremony are shared, but through a vow renewal ceremony, new abilities can be shared.”

“What does the bracelet do?” Ryan asked.

“The bracelet does two things,” Corelian said. “If Asheera was ever in danger, my bracelet would heat up to alert me to it. If she ever cheated on me, my bracelet would become ice cold to alert me of her infidelity.”

“So, which piece of jewelry grants the lifespan and youth to non-Atlantean couples?”

“The rings,” Corelian answered. “For non-Atlantean sponsored couples, the rings are slightly different then mine. For example, Matt, Oliver, your rings would bear the Cromwell and Wood crests, but both rings would have to small versions of Ryan’s family crest, that is the Laitannen crest, engraved on both sides of your own crest.”

“Ryan mentioned something about blood?” Oliver asked.

“Yes, during the wedding ceremony,” Corelian answered, “a few drops of your partner’s blood is dripped onto each piece of jewelry. The spells on the jewelry allows it to absorb the blood. The blood is necessary for all of the benefits granted by the Atlantean marriage ceremony. In the case of sponsored couples, an additional spell is cast upon both rings to allow for the absorption of the sponsoring Atlantean’s blood in order to give the lifespan and eternal youth.”

“What are the optional pieces you mentioned?” Ryan asked.

Corelian pulled back his long blond hair and held it back, revealing that he was wearing a silver stud earring in both ears. Each earring had two silver chains attached that looped up to connect to silver ear cuff.

“These optional earrings,” Corelian said, “are what most Atlanteans use concealment charms on. It’s illegal to conceal the rings and while you can conceal the bracelet, clothing generally covers it, so few wear a concealment charm on it. The earrings, however, can be concealed if you don’t want others to know that you opted to use the optional jewelry. For those who do use the optional jewelry, they can choose to perform that part of the ceremony in the privacy of a back room, so that only the couple and officiate knows that the optional jewelry was used. At which point the concealments charms would be used. For those who don’t care if other people know about it, they can do it in front of the wedding guests, although they can still use the concealment charms if they don’t want people who were not invited to the wedding to know. As I mentioned earlier, vanity may also play a part and people will conceal the earrings simply because they don’t like wearing jewelry.”

“So what do the earrings do?” Oliver asked.

“Their function is the reason they’re optional,” answered Corelian, “and why some couples choose not to wear the earrings. The earrings are actually telepathy and empathy receivers. That is, they allow the couple to speak to one another telepathically and be able to sense the emotions of their partner. You can block your partner from your mind with Occlumency, but it’s very tiring to do it and your partner then may also get angry with you for hiding things, so some couples simply decide not to use the earrings to avoid that altogether.”

“Hmm, I think it would be cool,” Ryan said. “Plus, it could also be useful because if your partner was ever kidnapped, you could talk to them telepathically to try and assess the danger level before just Apparating to their location unprepared.”

“Yes, that is an advantage,” Corelian agreed.

“Well, Matt what do you think?” Oliver asked. “Should we get married in Atlantis?”

“Sounds good to me,” Matt answered. “We picked the 23rd of December as a wedding date, if that’s okay Corelian.”

“Yes, that’s fine,” said Corelian. “You can get married on any day you wish and anywhere you wish. All you need is the jewelry and a qualified Atlantean officiate.”

“So, should we contact a silversmith and have the jewelry made then?” Matt asked.

“Oh, I forgot to mention that,” Corelian said. “While the jewelry may look like it is made of silver, it’s actually made primarily of mythril. Mythril a rare metal, but it’s abundant in Atlantis. It looks like silver, but it’s also indestructible and feather-light. For the wedding jewelry though a combination of mythril and orichalcum is used, because alone mythril is resistant to magic. Orichalcum looks like gold in color, but it is inferior in value. We charm it to look silver and put a layer of it under the mythril when the jewelry is crafted. Without the orichalcum layer, the jewelry would resist the spells cast on it during the ceremony.”

Matthew and Oliver nodded, at which point, Corelian said, “I’ll do some research later and I’ll get my hands on the Cromwell and Wood family crests. I’ll then send a work order to the top jeweler in Atlantis and he’ll get started on your jewelry so that it’s ready for December. Did you two want the earrings or not?”

“Could we get back to you on that?” Matthew asked, after a moment of conferring with Oliver. “We’d like to sleep on that decision.”

“Of course, that’s not a problem,” Corelian said.

* * *

“Hello Potter,” the newcomer to the Hospital Wing said as he pulled a chair over and sat down next to Harry.

“Hello Zabini,” Harry said as he nodded to the boy.

“So, how is Drake doing?”

“Near as I can tell he’s fine,” Harry said. “According to the diagnostic spell that Madame Pomfrey taught us, he’s under the influence of a Dreamless Sleep potion.”

Blaise nodded, “Yes, I can understand why he would need it after the spells that were cast on him.”

“What spells were cast on him?” Harry asked. “And how do you know about them?”

“The Discrucio and Eviscero curses,” Blaise said as he explained what each of them did. “Professor Snape told me.”

Horror-struck, Harry gulped, and said, “Yeah, I can see why Dreamless Sleep was a good idea. Give his mind some time to rest without any dreams.”

Blaise nodded and said, “Precisely. So, what brings you here, Potter?”

“You can call me Harry. Or Aarik, I suppose.”

“Aarik?” Blaise asked as he arched an eyebrow.

“I recently found out that Aarik is my real name,” Harry answered. “It turns out Harry is just a nickname. I figure I’ll use Harry for now, at least until the war is over, but I figured I’d let a select group of friends call me Aarik if they want to.”

“We’re not friends, though,” Blaise pointed out. “Not that I’m saying, I’d be averse to the idea, but, I think this is probably the first conversation we’ve ever actually had.”

“True,” Harry agreed. “I’ve become good friends with Draco though and I figure I’ll be spending a fair amount of time with you because of that. I’ll probably let Draco call me Aarik, so I might as well let you do it as well.”

“Why would your being friends with Drake mean spending more time with me?”

“Well, you are his boyfriend,” Harry answered.

Blaise laughed, prompting Harry to give him a strange look, before Blaise said, “Draco is not my boyfriend.”

“He isn’t?” Harry asked.

“No, he isn’t,” Blaise confirmed. “Whatever gave you that impression?”

“Well, you two went to the Ball together,” answered Harry. “And you were stuck to each other like glue every time I saw the two of you during the course of the night.”

“Draco and I are just friends,” Blaise clarified. “We went to the dance together and acted like more than friends though to annoy Pansy Parkinson. She wants Draco, badly, but she refuses to believe that he’s gay.”

“Ah, I see,” said Harry. “Well, since I told you, the offer still stands. You can call me Aarik if you want, but only privately. If there are several people around, then don’t.”

“All right then, Aarik. You can call me Blaise, then. So, back to my question, what brings you here, Aarik?”

“I just wanted to make sure that Draco was okay,” Harry said. “I was in the Headmaster’s office when Professor Lasinius appeared in the Floo to tell Professor Dumbledore about Draco’s injuries and I was worried.”

“So, it was just friendly concern?” Blaise prodded. “No other reason?”

“What other reason would there be?”

“None, I suppose,” Blaise answered. “You are dating Granger after all.”

“No, I’m not,” said Harry. “Hermione and I just friends and we went to the dance together as such.”

“Oh,” Blaise said. “Couldn’t get a date? I’d imagine you having to beat the girls off with a stick.”

“I’m not that popular,” Harry said. “A few girls did ask, but I wasn’t interested.”

“Not your type?”

“Nope, definitely not,” Harry answered. “No girl is my type, Blaise. I’m gay.”

“Wow, you’re gay,” Blaise said.

“Yeah, I am,” said Harry. “It’s not something I’ve told many people, just a few close friends, but I figure I can tell you. I assume you’re gay?”

“Yeah, I’m gay,” confirmed Blaise, somewhat absently, as he was deep in thought.

“Is something wrong, Blaise?”

“No, nothing is wrong.”

“I’m not sure I believe you.”

Blaise remained quiet for a few minutes and then said, “Oh what the hell; Draco won’t be happy if he finds out I told you this, but I’ll deal with it. Draco and I are occasional lovers. We use one another to satisfy our libidos, but neither of us thinks about the other while doing it. Up until yesterday I didn’t know who Draco thinks about, until he said the person’s name as he came.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Harry asked.

“Because it was you,” Blaise answered. “Draco said your name when he came. I talked to him afterward and he admitted that he likes you.”

‘Draco likes me?’ Harry thought.

“Blaise, I’m going to kill you,” Draco said. The Dreamless Sleep potion had obviously worn off, Draco’s eyes were now open, and he was sitting up in bed and looking quite angry at Blaise.

“Now, Drake, you don’t really want to kill me, do you?”

“Yes, Blaise, I do,” Draco said. “Why did you have to tell him that?”

“It slipped out?”

“It slipped out?” Draco repeated. “Bloody hell, Blaise, I’ve just managed to become friends with him. Thanks a lot, Blaise, because I’m sure he probably wants nothing to do with me now that he knows about my feelings.”

“Draco?” Harry asked.

“What?” Draco asked as he turned to look at Harry, fear clearly showing in his eyes. Fear that he had just lost Harry as a friend.

Harry just looked at the blond for a moment, before he leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on Draco’s lips. Pulling away, he said, “I like you, too.”

* * *

To be continued...


	24. Chapter 24

Harry Potter and the Return of the Heirs  
By J.C. Vascardi

* * *  
Chapter Twenty-Four  
* * *

“Draco?” Harry asked.

“What?” Draco asked as he turned to look at Harry, fear clearly showing in his eyes. Fear that he had just lost Harry as a friend.

Harry just looked at the blond for a moment, before he leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on Draco’s lips. Pulling away, he said, “I like you, too.”

“Am I dreaming?” Draco asked after a moment.

“Can you feel this?” Blaise asked as he reached under the blanket and pinched one of Draco’s toes.

“Ouch!” Draco said. “Of course I can feel that!”

Draco looked rather pissed at Blaise until he said, “Well, then you’re not dreaming.”

“You’re gay?” Draco asked as he looked at Harry.

“I’m fairly sure, yes,” answered Harry. “I think when a bloke willingly loses his virginity to another bloke it’s a good indicator that he’s gay.”

“Who did you lose it too?” Blaise asked with a look of interest on his face.

“Please tell me it wasn’t Weasley,” Draco said before Harry could say anything.

“It was Weasley,” Harry said, knowing that Draco was probably referring to Ron and he just wanted to torture him for a few seconds. He wasn’t lying after all, because he had lost his virginity to a Weasley, just not the Weasley that Draco was thinking of.

“Oh bloody hell, Harry,” Draco said. “How could you ever do it with Weasley?”

“I think he’s quite handsome actually,” Harry said with a grin.

“Handsome?” Draco asked with a look of utter horror on his face. “Are you crazy?”

“You’ve obviously never seen his layout in Playwitch,” Harry said with a grin, as both Draco and Blaise’s jaws dropped open.

“You mean Playwitch magazine?” Blaise asked, as Harry nodded. “How could Weasley have a layout in Playwitch? He’s not even old enough to get a subscription let alone pose for it.”

“Wait a minute,” Draco said, as a look of comprehension spread across his face, “I get the feeling that Harry is playing with us.”

“Are you?” Blaise asked.

“Well, you asked if I lost my virginity to Weasley,” Harry said. “I said yes, which is true because I did. Just not the Weasley you think it is. Ron does have five older brothers you know.”

“Okay, now I’m intrigued,” commented Blaise. “Question is which Weasley?”

“You both have to swear to me that you won’t tell a soul,” Harry said.

“Why?” Draco asked.

“Just swear you won’t tell anyone,” Harry said, “or I won’t tell you.”

“I swear not to tell anyone,” Blaise said, before Draco added, “So do I.”

“The bloke I lost my virginity to,” Harry said, “and took the virginity of I might add, is the oldest of Ron’s brothers, also known as our Potions professor, Bill Weasley.”

“Damn,” Blaise said. “He is hot.”

“You actually had sex with our Potions professor?” Draco asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said. “He wasn’t a professor at the time though. We’ve been exchanging owls with one another for over a year now and have become good friends. He helped me quite a bit over the summer in terms of my coming to terms with being gay. He was helping me celebrate my birthday and one thing lead to another, and before I knew it, we were shagging each other senseless.”

“So are you still doing it?” Blaise asked.

“No, we’re not,” answered Harry. “Bill and I haven’t been together since the day before school started. I wanted to continue our fling, but he told me it was against school rules for him to be with me, because I’m only 16. He did consent to give me one final kiss after school started, but that’s it.”

“What did you mean earlier when you said you liked me?” Draco asked.

“Exactly what it sounded like,” Harry said. “I like you, Draco. I’ve pretty much known I was probably gay since mid-way through third year, but I tried to ignore it, because I didn’t want to be gay. I’m an orphan after all, so I’ve always wanted to have children, so being gay didn’t really fit into my plans.”

“Just because you’re gay doesn’t mean you can’t have kids,” Blaise said.

“Yeah, I know that now,” said Harry. “I didn’t know that though until a few weeks ago. Somehow, the subject of marriage and children never came up when Bill was helping me come to terms with being gay. He never told me that the Wizarding World’s opinion on such things is different from that of the Muggle World’s. I think he thought I was sickened at the thought of being gay because of one of my crushes.”

“Crushes?” Draco asked.

“Yeah,” answered Harry. “My first crush was on Oliver Wood. I happened to see him in the shower once after Quidditch practice mid-way through third year. I’ve had a few fantasies about Oliver. That’s why I didn’t sign up for his Art class, because I figured dealing with Bill in Potions would be enough of a strain.”

“Why would a crush on Oliver Wood sicken you?” Blaise asked. “He’s very cute. Professor Cromwell is a very lucky man, if you ask me.”

“Well, it wasn’t my crush on Oliver that sickened me,” Harry revealed. “It was my crush on Cedric Diggory that sickened me. I had several fantasies about him during fourth year and much to my horror, they didn’t stop when he died, so I was feeling pretty sick about that.”

“I would never have pinned you as a necrophiliac, Harry,” Blaise said.

“I’m not,” Harry said. “I never fantasized about doing it with Cedric’s corpse. He was always alive in my fantasies. Long story short, he let me use the Prefect’s Bathroom in my fourth year to deal with one of the Tri-Wizard clues and my fantasies always had him coming in while I was in the bath, stripping, getting in the tub with me, and then we’d start making out. What sickened me was that I still had that fantasy a few times after he died.”

“Well, I don’t blame you, I suppose,” Draco said. “Cedric was certainly hot in his own way. Not really my type though. So, Harry lets get back to the subject of you liking me.”

* * *

Meanwhile, Professor Dumbledore and Nicholas Delaney were in Professor Snape’s office, asking him if he’d be willing to help with the potion that Slytherin spoke of.

“What exactly do I have to do?” Snape asked.

“Donate some blood,” Dumbledore answered. “Salazar said that the potion would require a few drops of blood from someone in Voldemort’s service. I know that you are technically in my service, but you are a marked Death Eater, so, your blood will fit the bill. We will also need to make use of your brewing skills. You may not be the Potions professor anymore, but you are a certified Potions Master, unlike Professor Weasley.”

Professor Snape looked at Dumbledore and said, “I shall grant my assistance.”

“Excellent,” Dumbledore said. “Mr. Delaney can fill you in further. I have an appointment at the Ministry, so I shall have to take my leave now.”

With a nod, Dumbledore stood and left the room, leaving Nick alone with Professor Snape.

“So you are really Slytherin’s heir?” Snape asked.

“Yes, sir,” Nick answered.

“Well, let us not waste anymore time then,” Snape said. “Where is the recipe for the potion?”

“I don’t have it with me,” Nick answered. “It’s in a book of Salazar’s most secret recipes, all of which he created himself. He’s asked that none of his recipes be removed from his lab, so I’ll have to take you there.”

“Shall we go then?” Snape asked as he stood.

“Sure,” Nick said, as he stood and led Professor Snape out of his office.

* * *

Following Dumbledore’s departure to talk with Professor Snape, Poppy left the Headmaster’s office and headed back to the Hospital Wing. Entering the ward, she stopped dead in her tracks as she saw that while she was gone, Blaise and Harry had come to visit with Draco. Normally she would be striding across the room to kick them out for coming in without permission, but she was delayed by the shock of seeing Harry kissing Draco on the lips.

“I really do like you, Draco,” Harry said as he pulled away. “I would not venture so far as to say I’m in love with you, as we’ve been bitter enemies for years now and I’m only just beginning to get to know the real you. Though, I must say that the more I get to know the real Draco, and not the stuck-up prick you were in years past, I can honestly say that there is a very real possibility that I could fall in love with you.”

“Oh Harry, you don’t know how happy that makes me,” Draco said. “I know I didn’t act like it, but I’ve loved you for awhile now. I hope I haven’t just scared you off by saying that, but I figured I should be honest.”

“I appreciate the honesty, Draco,” Harry said. “And no, you haven’t scared me off. I’m a Gryffindor, remember?”  
“True,” Draco said with a smile. “And not just any Gryffindor, either. You’re actually descended from Godric Gryffindor.”

“Whoa, wait a minute,” Blaise interrupted. “Descended from Godric Gryffindor?”

“Yeah, it’s true, Blaise,” Harry said. “In addition to finding out that my name is Aarik Potter I also found out that I’m related to Godric Gryffindor. I met him last night. He’s actually not the nicest of people.”

“Met him?” Blaise asked, as he raised an eyebrow.

“Well, his portrait,” Harry amended. “As his heir, I’m the only one who can open his private quarters. I did and I met his portrait. He’s furious with Salazar, but then again, Salazar is equally furious with him, so it’s not fun getting the two of them in the same frame.”

“And why pray are they so mad at each other?” Blaise asked.

Harry then explained to Blaise about everything that had been going on recently. He made sure to leave out any mention of what had been learned about Voldemort and Tom Riddle, or about Sirius being in the Hells. Upon finishing his tale, Madame Pomfrey walked over and startled all three boys when she spoke.

“As interesting as all this is,” Poppy said, “I’m afraid you’ll both have to leave. Mr. Malfoy needs his rest.”

“I’m fine, Madame Pomfrey, really,” Draco said. “Please don’t make them go.”

Poppy gave Draco a stern look that made it quite clear that he could argue all he wanted, but she wasn’t going to change her mind.

“Both of you,” Poppy said as she turned to Blaise and Harry. “Out, now.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Harry said as he and Blaise stood and headed towards the doors.

Before leaving the room though, Harry turned to look at Draco and blew him a kiss, which caused Draco to smile.

* * *

Arriving in Slytherin’s quarters, Nick invited Professor Snape in and then walked over to the large frame hanging over the fireplace.

“Salazar,” Nick hissed in Parseltongue to get his ancestor’s attention before switching to English and saying, “May I present Hogwarts’ Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Severus Snape. He’s also the Head of Slytherin House.”

Severus bowed and said, “It is an honor to meet you.”

Salazar simply nodded, before he said, “I take it you’ll want to get started on the potion immediately?”

“Yes, Professor Dumbledore is anxious to get it brewed,” Nick said. “He wants to see Tom Riddle and try and assess how dangerous a rescue mission would be.”

“Tom Riddle?” Salazar asked, who had not been informed of the exact use of the potion, only that a required ingredient was the blood of someone in Voldemort’s service. “Why in Merlin’s name would Professor Dumbledore want to rescue Voldemort?”

“He doesn’t,” answered Nick. “It’s recently come to light that Tom Riddle is not Voldemort. To make a long story short, Tom Riddle has been Voldemort’s prisoner under a Dark Arts version of the Time Suspension charm since the spring of 1942. Voldemort is, in fact, a lesser devil whose goal here on Earth is to turn it into the Tenth Hell and usurp Asmodeus’ place as King of the Hells.”

“How in Merlin’s name did a lesser devil get here?”

“I’m afraid I have to shoulder the blame for that,” Salazar answered. “I summoned him to Earth in 862, so that he could divine when my heir would find my Chamber of Secrets, and to assist me to breed the basilisk and keep it alive until that time. I didn’t realize it at the time, but Voldemort cast some extra spells which would summon him back when my heir, Tom Riddle, found my Chamber.”

“So, where is your lab, Salazar?” Nick asked after a few moments of silence.

“Through the large oak door at the end of that hallway,” Salazar said as he pointed to an archway across the room. “Like my Chamber of Secrets, Parseltongue is required to open the door. I’ll meet you down there.”

Nick nodded and then motioned for Professor Snape to follow him. Arriving at the door, Nick hissed, “Open up,” which triggered the sound of numerous tumblers sliding out of their locked position, before finally the door swung open to reveal a dark staircase.

Stepping forward into the darkness, Nick was momentarily surprised that the torches did not light themselves, as most torches in the Wizarding World tend to do. He didn’t dwell on it though as he pulled out his wand and pointed it at a nearby torch and said, “Incendio!”

The torch burst to life and Nick couldn’t help but notice that once the torch at the top of the stairs lit, the others further down followed suit. Putting his wand away, Nick then began to descend the steep stone stairs, with Professor Snape following close behind him.

At the bottom of the stairs, an archway opened up into a cavernous room. Two walls were dedicated to bookshelves that were packed with books Nick assumed were about Potions. The other two walls were dominated by cabinets with glass doors, which held a wider variety of potions ingredients then he had ever seen. In the center of the room, a massive workstation held ten cauldrons of various sizes and materials.

“Wow,” Nick said as he looked around. “And I thought my grandmother’s potions lab back in Marseille was impressive. This is amazing.”

“Yes, it is,” agreed Severus.

“You’ll find the book you need there,” Salazar said as he pointed to one of the bookcases. Nick looked where Salazar was pointing and noticed a small cabinet in one of the bookshelves, a door with no visible knob.

“You will need to speak Parseltongue to open the door,” Salazar said.

Nick nodded, went over to the cabinet and hissed at it in Parseltongue. The door glowed green for a moment before popping open to reveal a large volume bound in black dragonhide resting inside. Picking up the book, Nick brought it over to a nearby bookstand and noticing that it was locked, and he had seen no key, Nick hissed at the book, as Salazar just smiled and said, “You’re catching on, Nicholas. The potion you want is on page 239.”

Nick opened the book to page 239 and looked down at the page. The potion was very complicated, containing many ingredients Nick had never heard of. He also couldn’t help but notice that it said it would take twenty-four hours to brew. Nick knew that compared to some other potions, such as the Polyjuice Potion, which took a month to brew, twenty-four hours was a short brewing time. Nick was glad, however, that Professor Snape would be doing the brewing, because while he did have an Outstanding Potions OWL, Nick had certainly never attempted to brew anything with a brewing time of more than six hours.

Nick was so engrossed in looking over the ingredients on the page that he didn’t notice Professor Snape coming over to stand behind him. Looking down at the page, Severus asked, “What is this nonsense?”

“What do you mean nonsense?” Nick asked, with a perplexed look on his face.

“You mean you can read this?” Severus asked.

“Of course,” Nick said, before he asked, “You can’t?”

“No, I can’t.”

Nick looked back down at the page and thought for a moment, before a light went on in his head, looked up at Salazar’s portrait and asked, “Salazar is this written in Parseltongue?”

“Indeed it is, my boy,” Salazar confirmed. “The recipes in that book are all of my most secret creations. So, I took great pains to make sure that nobody would ever be able to steal them from me.”

“Professor Dumbledore asked if I would brew the potion,” Severus said, “as I am a certified Potions Master, but I cannot brew a potion from a recipe I cannot read.”  
“That is true,” Salazar said. “I just want to make sure that my secret recipes don’t fall into the wrong hands. You are a marked Death Eater are you not? Which means you must see Voldemort from time to time and I would not want him learning my secrets.”

“I am a master Occlumens,” Severus said. “I also play my part very well. Voldemort doesn’t suspect that I’m even the slightest bit disloyal to him. I assure you that if he did, I would not be alive right now.”

“Well, don’t be so sure,” cautioned Salazar. “In preparing to summon Voldemort, I did quite a bit of Demonology research and one thing one must always remember about devils is that they will rarely outright kill a person. They would rather take pleasure in watching the person suffer. That is why Voldemort has held Tom Riddle prisoner all of these years. He enjoys torturing him much more than he enjoys killing. Devils are creatures of the outer planes and they are immortal, so they tend to not think of death as the ultimate punishment as humans do.”

Nick got a horrified look on his face and asked, “If Voldemort is immortal then how do we stand a chance of defeating him?”

“Ultimately, the only chance of defeating him,” Salazar answered, “does not lie in killing him, but in finding some way to banish him back to the Hells. Before that can happen, though, it will be necessary to find a way to remove the Dark Mark from his Death Eaters. As long as there is even one marked Death Eater, banishing him is impossible. At any rate, Nicholas, you’ll find a quill, ink, and parchment in my desk. You have my permission to translate the potion recipe for Professor Snape. Once you’ve done that you should take a list of the necessary plant ingredients and ask Zacharias to retrieve them from Helga’s greenhouse.”

Nick nodded and after gathering quill, ink, and parchment, he sat down and began to copy the spell out of Salazar’s book.

* * *

To be continued.


	25. Chapter 25

Harry Potter and the Return of the Heirs  
By J.C. Vascardi

* * *  
Chapter Twenty-Five  
* * *

Monday the Fourth of November dawned and like many Monday mornings, many of the students at Hogwarts were not looking forward to once again attending classes. Many just wanted the day to be over, believing Mondays to be the worst creation in the history of the world. There were a few people in the castle though who couldn’t care less about it being Monday and just wanted the classes for the day to end.

Everyone who knew the full truth about the real threat to the Wizarding world were among those anxiously awaiting the end of the school day. Professor Dumbledore took over teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts for the day so that Professor Snape could spend his time down in Salazar’s lab brewing the potion, which would be ready shortly after classes ended for the day.

Rather than going to the Great Hall for the lunch period, Harry invited Blaise, Draco, Hermione, Zacharias, Ryan, and Justin upstairs to Godric’s private quarters and Dobby served them lunch in Godric’s dining room. Bill and Nick had also been invited, but they both had other plans and politely declined.

“Wow,” Draco said, after being filled in about the real threat to not only the Wizarding world, but the whole world. “I would never have guessed in a million years that the Dark Lord wasn’t human.”

“Yeah, it is rather shocking,” said Hermione. “You know Harry, I just thought of something. If Professor Dumbledore does launch a rescue mission for Tom Riddle, we really should tell Ginny. Otherwise, she’ll probably freak out if she sees him.”

“Good point, Hermione,” said Harry.

“I’m assuming you mean Ginny Weasley?” Zacharias asked, as Harry and Hermione nodded. “Why would she freak out?”

“Tom Riddle almost killed her during her first year at Hogwarts,” answered Harry, before he detailed the events surrounding the Chamber of Secrets and everything that happened down there.

“Well, the diary was probably created by Voldemort,” Ryan said. “According to Alaric, the real Tom Riddle was pure of heart, so I can’t imagine that he’d create something that full of evil.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” said Justin, “though I can understand how Ginny certainly needs to be forewarned before she sees Tom Riddle in the castle.”

“You know I imagine this will be pretty strange for Nick,” Blaise said. “Due to the nature of his prison, Tom is still 16, so after he’s rescued, I assume that Dumbledore will decide that he should finish his education here. I’m sure Nick will find it very strange to possibly be in the same classes as his granduncle. Not to mention it being strange for Tom, as any friends he may have had graduated years ago and could very well be dead by now.”

“Yeah, and let’s not forget Nick’s grandmother,” Draco said. “She was adopted shortly after their mother died, while Tom was still an infant, so it’s very possible he doesn’t even know about her. Imagine finding out you have a sister who is now old enough to be your grandmother and who may in turn be your professor, if Tom takes Care of Magical Creatures.”

“True,” said Ryan. “To be perfectly honest, I think I might feel a bit strange around Tom Riddle.”

“Why?” Hermione asked.

“I think Draco probably knows why,” Ryan said as he looked over at the blond. “He was at Cromwell Hall the day that my Uncle Charles told Matt, Oliver, him, and me a bit more about my late grandmother’s life at Hogwarts.”

“Oh, yeah,” Draco said. “I nearly forgot about that. I imagine that will be strange for both you and Tom.”

“What will be strange?” Harry asked.

“My late grandmother dated Tom for a brief period when they were in school together,” Ryan revealed. “So, going to school with my grandmother’s ex-boyfriend should be plenty strange.”

“Didn’t Charles say that Lucinda dated someone else after her breakup with Tom and before she started dating William Cromwell?”

“Yes, Draco,” Ryan said, as he looked over at Harry. “My grandmother Lucinda also dated your grandfather, Jonathan Potter, for awhile before they started dating their future spouses.”

“Wow,” Harry said. “What a small world.”

* * *

Meanwhile, in the staff wing of Hogwarts, Professor Angelique Byrne was sitting behind her desk grading the parchments on unicorns that she had her fifth-year Magical Creatures students write when there was a knock on her door. Setting down her quill, she stood, walked over to the door, and answered it to find Professor Weasley standing there with her grandson.

“Hello Bill,” Angelique said. “Did Nicolas do something he shouldn’t have?”

“No, Angelique,” Bill said. Calling this woman by her first name was not especially hard for Bill, as she was new to Hogwarts this year, but calling some of the other professors at Hogwarts such as McGonagall and Flitwick by their first names was still a bit hard for him. However, as he was now on staff, they all insisted that he use their first names rather than calling them Professor.

“Then to what do I owe this visit?”

“May we come in grandmother?” Nick asked. “Bill and I have some important things to tell you and we’d rather not do it in the hallway.”

Angelique cocked her head at her grandson’s use of a professor’s first name, but nonetheless stood aside and motioned for them to enter. Once she closed the door, she said, “Nicolas, why are you using Bill’s first name? He’s your professor; you really shouldn’t be calling him by his first name.”

“Its okay, Angelique, I gave him permission,” Bill said.

“Why would you give him permission?”

“Well, grandmother, that’s one of those important things we needed to tell you,” Nick said as he wrapped his arm around Bill’s waist. “We’re together.”

“Together?” Angelique said, as she sat down. “Hmm, okay. I knew you were bisexual, Nicolas, and I certainly have no problem with that. Your father is gay after all. How did this come about though? I mean you’re a student, how did you start dating your Potions professor?”

“I always run a few laps around the lake in the morning,” Bill answered. “Shortly after Nick turned seventeen, he started joining me for my morning run, and we started talking about our lives and getting to know one another. We both had already been attracted to one another when we’d first met in Diagon Alley before school started and we decided to start dating.”

Angelique remained quiet for a few minutes and then said, “You know, Nicolas, it’s a very good thing that we’re at Hogwarts now and have to abide by their rules, because even though you are legally an adult now, this kind of pairing would not be acceptable at Beauxbatons. If Bill was teaching there and started dating you, he would have been fired immediately.”

“I know and that’s why I was so happy when I found out that Hogwarts allowed professor and student relationships if the student was seventeen or older,” Nick said.

“How did you find out?” Angelique asked. “Did Bill tell you?”

“No, Harry Potter told me,” Nick answered.

“How did Harry Potter find out?” Angelique asked. “It’s not a rule that is often told to the students, mostly because of the age of the majority of the professors, it’s assumed that none of the students would care about such a rule as they wouldn’t want to date any of their professors anyway.”

“Well, Harry found out about it from me,” Bill said. “He came to see me in my quarters near the beginning of the school year wanting to continue our relationship from before I was a professor.”

“You were dating Harry Potter before my grandson?” Angelique asked. “Bill, this had better not be a rebound relationship, because I do not want Nicolas to get hurt.”

“It isn’t, Angelique,” Bill said. “I love your grandson and I honestly believe that he is the one that I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

“What of your relationship with Harry Potter though?”

Bill cleared his throat, obviously a bit uncomfortable, as he said, “My relationship with Harry Potter was purely physical. We both consider each other very good friends, but neither of us saw the relationship taking a romantic turn.”

“Well, then, I can’t complain,” Angelique said. “Just so long as you understand, Bill, that if you ever hurt my grandson in any way, you will have to answer to me, and trust me, you will not enjoy the experience.”

“I understand, Angelique,” Bill said, “and I would never intentionally hurt Nick. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“You two are really in love aren’t you?”

“Yes, grandmother, we are,” Nick said, smiling from ear to ear.

“So, when should I put my head together with Bill’s mom to start planning the wedding?” Angelique asked.

“Marriage is not in the immediate future,” Bill said. “Nick and I have only been together about a month now, so while we’re both confident in our feelings for one another, we’d still like to date for a while before we exchange vows.”

“Well, that’s understandable.”

“There is another reason we’re holding off on the wedding plans though,” Nick said.

“What’s that, my dear?” Angelique asked.

“Oh the fact that my parents and family don’t know about Nick and me,” Bill said. “In fact, they don’t even know that I’m gay.”

“Why don’t they know you’re gay?” Angelique asked.

“Because I’ve been avoiding telling them,” Bill answered, “until after Fleur Delacour and Phillipe Fortier’s marriage.”

“Fleur Delacour and Phillipe Fortier,” Angelique repeated. “Those names seem familiar somehow.”

“Fleur is Gabrielle’s older sister,” Nick said. “You remember my friend from school, right grandmother? Gabrielle Delacour, the half-Veela girl who wanted me to be her boyfriend?”

“Oh yes,” Angelique said. “She hadn’t come into her powers yet, so you had no trouble resisting her charms. Why would you wait until after Fleur and Phillipe were married though to tell your family that you’re gay, Bill?”

“Because they think that Fleur is my girlfriend,” Bill answered. “Until a few months ago, Fleur was convinced that I was her mate and she was using her powers on me almost every second of the day to make me fawn all over her like I was completely head over heels in love with her. I probably would have ended up having sex with her if it wasn’t for the fact that her parents insisted that all the proper tests were done first to ensure that I actually was her mate.”

“I take it since she’s marrying this Phillipe Fortier,” Angelique said, “that you are not Fleur’s mate.”

“No, I’m not, thank the heavens,” said Bill. “I couldn’t stand being married to that girl. I know many guys would think it was a dream come true to be married to a half-Veela, but I’d rather not be involved with a person who has the power to make me do things I would otherwise not do.”

“Yes, I can understand that,” Angelique said. “Well, I can assure you that Nicolas does not have a drop of Veela blood, so you needn’t worry about that.”

“It’s comforting to know that,” Bill said with a smile. “Anyway, the awkward questions are the reason I haven’t told my family that I’m gay, but there’s another reason why I haven’t told them about Nick.”

“Which is?”

“Well, grandmother,” Nick said, “I’m sure you must have some idea. Bill was a Gryffindor in school and I’m a Slytherin. With Voldemort’s rise to power, many people have begun to think of all Slytherins as the embodiment of evil.”

“Yes, I know,” said Angelique. “The two houses are bitter enemies.”

“Well, there’s more to it then that though,” said Nick.

“What do you mean, Nicolas?”

“Grandmother, did you know that you were adopted?”

Angelique seemed taken aback for a moment, and she probably was as it was the last thing in the world she expected her grandson to ask, but after the initial shock wore off, she nodded and said, “Yes, Nicolas, I did know that. I realize that I never actually said as much to you, but I figured you must have already known that I was adopted.”

“How could I possibly have known that?”

“My marriage,” Angelique said. “Come now, Nicolas, surely you remember that my surname did not change when I married your grandfather. I was a Byrne before and after my marriage, since my husband was Maxwell Byrne, my first cousin. You know that our family is not obsessed with pure blood and we certainly have never encouraged first cousins to marry in order to preserve it. The family didn’t object in Maxwell’s and my case though because we weren’t related by blood.”

“Ah, yes, I sort of suspected,” answered Nick, “but I wasn’t sure.”

“Why bring this up now, Nicolas?”

“Well, grandmother, it’s because I have a greater connection to Slytherin House then any other Slytherin in this school. It turns out that your birth name was Ariana Merope Riddle, the eldest daughter of Thomas Riddle and his wife, Merope Gaunt-Riddle. The Gaunt family was the last remaining direct descendants of Salazar Slytherin.”

“Nicolas, if what you say is true, then that means we’re not only related to Salazar Slytherin, but that we’re also related to Voldemort.”

“No, actually, you’re not,” Bill said. “To make a long story short, it has recently come to light that your younger brother, Tom Marvolo Riddle, is still 16 years old, as a lesser devil named Voldemort has been holding him prisoner under a Dark Arts version of the Time Suspension Charm since the spring of 1943.”

“Voldemort is a lesser devil?” Angelique asked. “Oh heavens, then that means that he’s trying to turn Earth into a Hell and usurp Asmodeus.”

“Yes, grandmother,” Nick said. “How did you know that?”

“This may seem strange,” Angelique answered, “but while I did major in Care of Magical Creatures at university, I minored in Demonology. So, I do know a thing or two about devils and the Hells.”

“I never knew that,” Nick said.

“Yes, well, it’s not something that I tend to talk about,” Angelique said. “Most people would think that anyone who studied Demonology in university was evil. The truth is I studied it because I thought it was a natural extension to my study of magical creatures, because devils are among the most magical creatures in existence.”

“Well, yes, that is true,” commented Nick.

“We’re really related to Slytherin?”

“Yes, grandmother, we are,” Nick said. “Only two wizarding lines are known to have the ability to speak Parseltongue: the Slytherin and Le Fey families. The last member of the Le Fey family died without an heir over a thousand years ago.” Nick switched to Parseltongue and added, “So, that must mean that I inherited this ability from Slytherin,” before switching back to English and translating what he had said in Parseltongue. He also explained that only the male heirs of Slytherin possessed the ability, so try as she might, Angelique would not be able to speak in the language of snakes.

“I still get chills down my spine hearing Nick talk like that,” Bill said after a few moments of silence. “It’s just something that will take some time to get used to I guess.”

“I can understand how that might take some getting used to,” Angelique said. “It’s going to take some time for me to get used to as well.”

* * *

Immediately following Fencing class, Harry hurried up to the hallway outside Gryffindor tower. He’d sent Hedwig with a message to Ginny to meet him by the Fat Lady after classes had ended for the day.

Ginny was already waiting for Harry when he arrived.

“Hey Harry,” Ginny said. “Why’d you want to meet me?”

“There’s something we need to discuss,” Harry said.

“Okay, what is it?” Ginny asked as she turned as if to give the password to the Fat Lady.

“No, Ginny, not in the common room,” Harry said. “It’s too crowded in there this time of day. Follow me.”

Ginny looked confused, but nodded and followed Harry as he took off down the corridor. Reaching the end of the corridor, Harry turned a corner and slipped behind an old tapestry that hid a staircase down to the sixth floor. Of course, that wasn’t the only thing that it hid.

Harry looked at Ginny for a moment, who looked completely confused, and then quickly looked down the hidden staircase to ensure nobody was coming up, before reaching up and tracing Godric’s initials on the seventh brick up from the floor and seven bricks over from the corner. Ginny gasped as the initials suddenly lit up, glowing a bright golden color. A bright golden line soon shot upward from Godric’s middle initial and traced the shape of a door and Ginny gasped again as a red door with a golden handle appeared in the formerly blank wall.

Harry opened the door, walked across the threshold and then said, “Please come in.”

Ginny was speechless as she followed Harry into the room. Harry closed the door after her, then walked further into the room, and took a seat on the large red velvet armchair in front of the fireplace.

“Harry, where are we?”

“Please, Ginny, have a seat,” Harry said as temporarily ignored Ginny’s question and motioned to the chair across from him.

Ginny walked over and sat down and then asked again, “Harry, where are we?”

“Godric Gryffindor’s private quarters,” Harry said. “I recently found out that I’m Gryffindor’s heir.”

“You are?” Ginny asked. “Wow, Harry, that’s amazing!”

“Well, you’re a good friend,” Harry said, “so, I’m going to tell you this but it can’t leave this room. I also found out that my name isn’t really Harry. Turns out it’s just a nickname born from a misunderstanding on Hagrid’s part. My name is actually Aarik.”

“So, should I call you that now?”

“When we’re alone if you want,” Harry said. “There are a few other people who know about it, too, but I’d rather it didn’t become public knowledge right now. Professor Dumbledore changed my records to say my name was Harry after my parents died so that hopefully I could revert back to Aarik once Voldemort is gone and slip into anonymity.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Ginny said. “Who else knows?”

“Well, obviously Professor Dumbledore,” Harry said. “Plus Professor Lasinius, Remus, Hermione, Bill, Nick, Ryan, Justin, Susan, Draco, Blaise, Zacharias, and Ryan’s father and step-mother.”

“Zacharias Smith?” Ginny asked. “Why would you tell him?”

“He was there when I found out,” Harry answered. “He’s Hufflepuff’s heir. It turns out that Cedric was, too. He was Zacharias’ cousin.”

“So, you’re Gryffindor’s heir and Zacharias is Hufflepuff’s heir?”

“Yes, Ginny,” Harry confirmed. “And Ryan is Ravenclaw’s heir and Nick is Slytherin’s heir.”

“How do you know this?”

“Ryan’s father showed us all a very old book written by the founders which records the names, birth and death dates, and ages of all their heirs. And the fact that I was able to bring you into this room proves that I am Gryffindor’s heir, because only an heir can open the door and give other people permission to enter.”

“Wow, this is a lot to take in,” Ginny said.

“There’s more,” Harry said.

“There is?”

“Yes, Ginny, there is,” Harry responded, as he relayed the information that had recently become known about Voldemort and Tom Riddle.

“So, that wasn’t Tom Riddle who tried to kill me?”

“No, that was the creation of Voldemort,” Harry answered. “The real Tom Riddle has been a prisoner all these years. He’s been frozen in time since the spring of 1943.”

“Frozen in time?”

“Yeah, you heard correctly,” said Harry. “You know the Time Suspension charm that Professor Dumbledore taught us in Defense Arts?” Ginny nodded and Harry continued, “Well, it turns out that there is a Dark Arts prison version of the charm which draws the power to sustain it from the prisoner’s magical core. Voldemort must have been providing Tom with food and drink laced with Magical Restorative Drafts all of these years and kept him as a prisoner, frozen in his sixteen year old form.”

“That’s horrible,” Ginny said. “Well, not necessarily staying sixteen, but being held prisoner for over a century is horrible.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “Professor Snape is brewing a potion right now concocted from one of Slytherin’s own recipes. Slytherin says that it will allow us to see Tom in his prison so as to assess the danger level of a rescue mission.”

“Slytherin says?”

“Oh, I forgot to mention that detail,” Harry said with a sheepish grin. “I’ve met all four of the founders,” and as Ginny looked at Harry like he’d lost his mind, he elaborated, “in portrait form. Do you see that large gold-framed portrait above the fireplace? Well, that’s Godric’s portrait, obviously he’s not in right now, but I’m sure you’ll meet him and the other founders eventually.”

As if on cue, Godric stepped into his frame and said, “Hello Aarik. Who’s your friend?”

“Hello Godric,” Harry said, “this is Ginny Weasley, a fellow Gryffindor. She’s a fifth year and a good friend.”

“Nice to meet you, Ginny,” Godric said with a smile and before Ginny could say anything, Godric asked, “Is she your girlfriend, Aarik?”

“No, Godric,” Harry answered. “I could never date Ginny. First of all, I think of her as a little sister, and secondly, I’m gay.”

“Ah, okay,” said Godric. “Any strapping young Gryffindor boys you have your eye on then?”  
“There is one strapping young man I have my eye on,” Harry replied, “but you’re not going to be happy with it, Godric, seeing as how he is not a Gryffindor, a Ravenclaw, or a Hufflepuff.”

“You like a Slytherin?” both Godric and Ginny asked in unison. Godric’s tone of voice was more on the angry side though and Ginny’s was more on the confused side.

“Yes, I like a Slytherin,” Harry said. “I know, Godric, you’ve decided to hate all Slytherins because you insist on blaming Salazar for Alaric’s death, even if you have an equal share in the blame. At any rate, I like Draco and nothing you say is going to change my mind.”

“Draco?” Ginny asked, obviously shocked. “You mean as in Draco Malfoy?”

“Yes, Ginny,” Harry said. “I like Draco and before you say anything, I’m sure you’ve noticed that he’s changed quite a bit since this summer. Watching his father kill his mother had a very profound effect on him.”

“History repeats itself, I see,” Godric said.

“What do you mean, Godric?” Harry asked.

“You said that this Draco’s father killed his mother,” Godric answered. “Well, it wouldn’t be the first time that a Malfoy man has killed his wife. In 830, Etienne Malfoy, the father of one of Salazar’s favorite students, Armand Malfoy, murdered his wife Giselle after he caught her in bed with the gardener. He also killed the gardener and then killed himself. It happened the summer before Armand started at Hogwarts, the first Malfoy to attend the school. Etienne and Giselle were in the process of moving the family to England, but they never made it.”

“What happened to Armand?” Ginny asked.

“He came to England,” Godric answered. “He lived at Hogwarts during the school year. If I remember correctly he was taken in by the Black family during the summers.”

“The Most Ancient House of Black,” Ginny commented. “I didn’t realize it was that ancient, though. Oddly enough, Draco’s mother was a Black, Narcissa Black Malfoy, daughter of Cygnus and Druella Rosier Black.”

“How do you know that, Ginny?” Harry asked.

“I was extremely bored one day during the summer,” Ginny answered, “and I memorized the more recent generations of the Black family tree from the tapestry in the sitting room.”

“Tell Godric about Narcissa’s aunt and uncle then,” Harry said.

Ginny didn’t understand why Harry would want Godric to know it, but said, “Narcissa’s aunt and uncle were Walburga Black and Orion Black, parents of Sirius, who was Harry’s godfather, and Regulus Black.”

Harry smiled at Ginny before turning to Godric and asking, “Did you catch that, Godric? When Ginny named Narcissa’s parents, she said Cygnus and Druella Rosier Black, but when she named my godfather’s parents, she said Orion Black and Walburga Black. Do you have any idea why she said that?”

“No, I don’t,” Godric said, “but I get the feeling you’re going to tell me.”

“Yes, I am,” said Harry. “Orion and Walburga were second cousins in addition to being husband and wife. That, Godric, I’m afraid is a side effect of the lies that you implanted in the Sorting Hat. Many of the old pureblood families have gone to extremes to keep their blood pure, to the point that many of the older families are now so inbred that it’s really quite amazing that some of them are even capable of doing the most simple of tasks, let alone studying magic. The most obvious examples currently at Hogwarts are Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, both Slytherins and purebloods, but their families are so inbred that they probably have the combined brain power of a slug.”

“Aarik, I never intended to create all of this purity of blood nonsense and you know it,” Godric said. “I only wanted to malign Salazar’s name so that history would hate him as much as I did.”

“Yes, well, Salazar didn’t intend to give Voldemort the chance to turn Earth into the Tenth Hell either,” countered Harry, “but it is what might happen, nonetheless. My point in this, Godric, is that your feud with Salazar has come at a very high price for many, many people and ultimately it might mean the destruction of not only the Wizarding world but also the Muggle world. Don’t you think it’s time that you end it?”

Godric remained silent for awhile and then said, “You’ve given me quite a bit to think about, Aarik. If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to be alone now.”

Godric then walked out of the frame and Harry proceeded to explain what was going on to Ginny, who didn’t know that the Sorting Hat had been lying or the full extent of Godric and Salazar’s relationship.

* * *

Later that evening in the common room of Salazar’s private quarters, everyone who knew the full truth about Tom Riddle and Voldemort had gathered as Professor Snape had sent word that he’d finished brewing the potion.

“So, we’ll soon see Tom Riddle in his prison,” Harry said, as Nikolas and Professor Snape set everything up according to Salazar’s instructions.

The potion was transported up from the lab to the common room, as Salazar didn’t want an army of people in his lab and it would be easier for everyone to gather around the cauldron in the common room then in the lab.

“Professor Snape has finished my Remote Viewing Potion,” Salazar said, “and I watched him throughout the entire process. He followed my instructions to the letter and I am confident that it has been brewed correctly. Now, all that is left to do is add a drop of Professor Snape’s blood in order to get past Voldemort’s magic and for Nikolas to say the required incantation.”

“Does it have to be me?” Nikolas asked.

“Yes, Nikolas, the incantation must be said in Parseltongue,” Salazar said. “Though, I suppose in order to lessen the strain on you, Mr. Potter could simultaneous cast the spell with you, since he can also speak Parseltongue. As much as it bothers me that Godric’s heir has the ability.”

“Oh do stop complaining,” Alaric hissed in Parseltongue as he materialized in the room, before switching to English and adding, “I’m Godric’s heir and I can speak it, so it’s not like it’s the first time that it’s happened.”

“Don’t take that tone with me young man,” Salazar hissed back at his son.

Alaric didn’t switch back to Parseltongue and just said, “Dad, I may have only been nine when I died, but considering that I recently celebrated my 1290th deathday, I’ll talk to you any bloody way I please, especially when you’re being a git.”

“Hmm and I thought I knew all the ghosts in this castle,” Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye, obviously amused by what Alaric had said to Salazar. “I don’t believe I’ve met this one though.”

“Sorry, I’ve never introduced myself, Headmaster,” Alaric said, “but I’ve become a rather solitary being in the last thousand or so years. The majority of the other ghosts don’t even know I’m here. I’m Alaric Sebastian Bryant Slytherin-Gryffindor, Godric and Salazar’s first-born and only child.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Alaric,” Dumbledore said, “and Happy Belated Deathday.”

“Thank you, Headmaster,” Alaric said with a smile.

“Shall we press on with the purpose of this gathering?” Snape asked, obviously annoyed by the delay.

“Yes, of course, Severus,” Dumbledore said. “Poppy do you have the potions I asked you to bring from the hospital wing?”

“Yes, Albus,” Poppy answered. “Though I only brought one of each.”

“One of each what?” Severus asked.

“Pepper-Up Potion and Magic Restorative Draft,” Poppy said. “Albus knew that Nikolas might be a bit drained after casting the charm tonight and wanted to be prepared.”

“I have some of both with me,” Severus said as he pulled back a flap in his robe to reveal a black dragonhide potion carrier attached to his belt. “I always keep a supply of various potions with me in case I need them.”

“Excellent,” Albus said, “then we are ready.”

Slytherin hissed the incantation to them and they both nodded, repeating it allowed a few times to get comfortable with saying it in perfect unison. Harry and Nikolas then pulled out their wands and moved into position next to the cauldron. Since Harry was right-handed and Nikolas was left-handed, it was easy to hold hands without either of them having to reach across the other. Putting the tips of their wands together over the cauldron, they waited for Snape to prick his finger and let his blood fall into the mixture, before they hissed the incantation to activate the potion.

Almost immediately, the potion turned from a dark black to a clear white and began to glow, as both Harry and Nikolas swayed on their feet, obviously drained from the amount of power necessary to pierce the powerful magic of a lesser devil.

Dumbledore pulled out his wand and made one of the sofas move to where Harry and Nikolas were standing and they gratefully sat down, as Poppy pulled the stopper on a Magic Restorative Draft and poured it down Harry’s throat as Severus did the same to Nikolas, followed by Pepper-Up Potions.

The potion continued to glow for a moment before it misted over for a few seconds and then everyone in the room was shocked to hear the screaming of a teenage boy and the cruel laughter of Voldemort.

* * *

Tom Riddle was lying on his stomach, naked from the waist up. Only, it wasn’t a bed or even the floor that he was lying on, no, this night Voldemort decided to be especially brutal with the torture of his prisoner and transfigured the boy’s bed into a rack. With a flick of his wand, Tom screamed again as his arms and legs were pulled further, not enough to dislocate anything but still very painful.

Voldemort, however, decided that this wasn’t enough torture and since the flesh of his prisoner’s back was bared, Voldemort decided it was just asking to be whipped. Instead of conjuring a normal whip, though, Voldemort conjured up a set of cat-o-nine tails with barbed wire added to the end of the lines. Tom screamed louder as the tails made contact with his skin, ripping it open.

“I so enjoy causing you pain, you insolent little whelp!” Voldemort shrieked as he brought the tails crashing down onto Tom’s back repeatedly, leaving it covered in bloody gashes.

After a few minutes, Voldemort banished the cat-o-nine tails and transfigured the rack back into a bed and Tom made the mistake of sighing in relief, thinking that his most recent torture session was over.

Voldemort laughed cruelly as he conjured up a bucket full of salt, which he then dumped onto Tom’s back and proceeded to rub it into the bloody wounds, before raising his wand and shouting out, “Crucio!”

Tom’s screams only made Voldemort laugh harder and he held the curse for two or three minutes, before he bored and walked out of the room, cackling evilly. As usual, a house-elf soon came into the room and began to clean and dress Tom’s wounds. Even after so many years of torture, Tom had very few physical scars to suggest that he’d been tortured, as the house-elf always treated them with magic almost as soon as they were sustained.

He might not have any physical scars, but mental scars were another matter entirely and Tom was frequently plagued by nightmares of all the torture that Voldemort heaped on him. He often prayed that death would just take him away from his hellish existence, but, should he ever be rescued, which he had long ago begun to doubt, he prayed that his rescuer would have the mercy to Obliviate him.

* * *

Back in Slytherin’s quarters, everybody was standing around in shocked silence, except for Hermione and Ginny, who had both been reduced to tears watching someone getting tortured in such a brutal manner. Bill wrapped his arms around both girls and allowed them to bury their faces in his robes as they cried.

“I’ve seen Voldemort be cruel with prisoners before,” Snape said, breaking the silence, “but this tops everything I’ve ever seen.”

“That was very disturbing,” said Dumbledore, all signs of the normal twinkle gone from his eyes, replaced by a deep sadness, but also a look of cold fury that very few people had ever seen on the normally jovial old man’s face.

“We have to get that poor boy out of there,” Poppy said. “Nobody should have to endure such a hellish existence.”

“I certainly agree,” Angelique said. “The question is how do we go about rescuing him? Do we even have any idea where he is?”

“I think I know,” Draco said and everyone turned to look at him.

“Where, Mr. Malfoy?” Dumbledore asked.

“If I’m right, he’s at the manor,” Draco said. “That room looks identical to one that Lucius locked me in for two weeks after the end of second year. He was angry that Hermione had outperformed me in school again and for losing the house-elf Dobby, so he took his anger out on me. He starved me and used the Cruciatus on me about five times a day.”

“Why didn’t you contact me, Draco?” Snape asked.

“At that time, Lucius had all the Floos in the house except for his study disconnected,” Draco answered. “And I didn’t have my own owl at the time, so I would have had to use a family owl. Lucius charmed all of them to force them to deliver all outgoing messages to him, so that he could read them before they were sent to the actual recipients. If he didn’t like what he read, he would burn the message. I would have been punished even worse if he had caught me trying to contact you.”

“Why didn’t you tell Narcissa then?” Snape asked.

“Recent events should answer that question,” Draco replied. “I knew Mum would confront Lucius and I was afraid of what he would do to her. Turns out I was right to be afraid, since he killed her when she found him using the Cruciatus on me and confronted him.”

“Well, we know the where then,” Dumbledore said. “Now we just have to figure out when, because we’ll need to wait until an opportune time to rescue Tom. At some point when Voldemort and the Death Eaters won’t be at Malfoy Manor.”

“Voldemort is planning a raid on Inverness this weekend,” Snape said. “He made it obvious that he intended to lead this raid himself, as he has been angry that the last few raids have been thwarted.”

“Well, then, this weekend it is,” Dumbledore said. “Though, now that I think about it, I would prefer to arrange it so that Voldemort doesn’t realize that Tom is gone for as long as possible.”

“Rowena, would it be possible to transfer the prison charm from Tom to another without Voldemort knowing?” Harry asked.

Rowena took a moment to think and then said, “Yes, Harry, it would be possible, but why do you ask?”

“Well, I’ve had a thought,” Harry said. “I was thinking I could call in a life debt that one of the Death Eaters owes me. We could then make him look like Tom with Polyjuice Potion and transfer the charm from Tom to the Death Eater.”

“One of the Death Eaters owes you a life debt?” Snape asked, clearly shocked.

Harry nodded and said, “Yes, Remus and Sirius were going to kill Wormtail that night in the Shrieking Shack in third year, but I stopped them, figuring that if he was alive, he could clear Sirius, so he owes me.”

“Voldemort will probably kill him when he realizes the deception,” Dumbledore said. “At which point if we ever do find a way to rescue Sirius from beyond Baazlebul’s Veil, he would still be considered a criminal in the eyes of the Ministry.”

At this point, Dumbledore took a moment to explain Sirius’ true fate to those present who had not been present when the true nature of the Veil of Baazlebul had been learned.

“Not if Wormtail signs a magically binding confession first,” Bill said. “With the power of the life debt, Harry could make him sign a confession first, then take the Polyjuice and switch places with Tom.”

“An excellent idea, Bill,” Dumbledore said. “A magically binding confession signed in the presence of the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot would carry great weight at the Ministry. Should we ever free Sirius from the Seventh Hell, he would almost certainly be cleared of any wrongdoing.”

“Well, we have a plan then,” Snape said. “This weekend Mr. Riddle will return to Hogwarts and Wormtail will get the punishment he deserves.”

* * *

To be continued.


	26. Secrets and a Howler

Harry Potter and the Return of the Heirs  
By J.C. Vascardi

* * *  
Chapter Twenty-Six:  
Secrets and a Howler  
* * *

Sunday morning arrived like so many Sundays prior, but this Sunday was very different. Voldemort personally led an attack on Inverness and the surrounding area on Saturday. Professor Dumbledore dispatched the majority of the Order of the Phoenix to assist the Aurors in defending the area, but a loss of life was inevitable, and the death toll for the war, both Wizard and Muggle, increased by a large number.

Professor Dumbledore would normally have gone to Inverness with the rest of the Order, but he had chosen instead to personally lead the rescue group going to Malfoy Manor to free the long imprisoned Tom Marvolo Riddle. The rescue group consisted of Professors Dumbledore, Sinistra, Byrne, and Lasinius, in addition to Hogwarts nurse, Madam Pomfrey.

The Founders were adamant that their heirs go on the mission as well, so the four heirs were put through four nights of extensive training sessions to prepare them as much as possible. Draco Malfoy was included in the training sessions, as he also went on the mission, because a member of the Malfoy family was necessary to get the rescue group past the wards surrounding the mansion.

The mission was a success. Wormtail signed the confession, before Madam Pomfrey successfully altered his appearance to turn him into an exact duplicate of Tom Riddle. Once the prison charm was transferred to Wormtail, the rescue group left the Manor as quickly and quietly as they had come.

Tom Riddle was now resting comfortably in one of the guest rooms of Slytherin’s private quarters. It was decided, however, that in order to keep up the rouse that Tom Riddle was still imprisoned, he would need a new identity if he were to resume attending classes at Hogwarts. Professor Byrne had the idea to have Tom assume the identity of her sixteen-year-old grandson and Nicolas’ cousin, Thomas Maxwell Byrne.

The real Thomas Byrne was the son of Jean-Michel Byrne, who was actually Professor Byrne’s step-son - her late husband Maxwell’s son from a previous marriage. Thomas had never left the family home in Marseille since the day he was born, as he had always been a very sickly boy, born with a very rare genetic disorder. His healers have often said that he should not have lived to see the age of five, let alone sixteen. Professor Byrne consulted Jean-Michel, and both he and the real Thomas gave their blessings for Tom Riddle to use Thomas’ identity in order to protect him from Voldemort.

Usually the Great Hall was not very busy for breakfast on Sunday mornings, but as it was a particularly cold November morning, most of the students were in the Great Hall, rather than grabbing some food and going outside to eat it, as many students did when it was warmer outside.

Harry was sitting at the Gryffindor table with Hermione, Ginny, Neville, Parvati, Lavender, Dean, Seamus, and Katie when Ron walked over.

“Um, Harry, Hermione, can we talk?” Ron asked.

“Sure, what do you want?” Harry asked, after looking at Hermione, who nodded.

“Well, um, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” Ron said. “I miss hanging out with you and stuff.”

“Well, Ron, you have nobody to blame but yourself,” Hermione said. “You created the distance with your own stubbornness.”

“I know and I’m an idiot,” Ron said, as he sat down.

“You all are my witnesses,” Ginny said as she looked at the others at the table. “Ronnie actually admitted he’s an idiot.”

Ignoring his sister’s comment, Ron asked, “You think we could be friends again?”

“That depends, Ron,” Harry said. “Are you going to get on my case about being friends with Draco?”

“No, I won’t,” Ron said. “Don’t get me wrong, Harry, I still don’t like him, but you do have a right to make friends with anyone you want and I have no right to try and dictate who is suitable.”

“Why Ron,” Hermione said. “I’m shocked. What brought on this turn around?”

“A long talk with Bill,” Ron said, “He told me that if I was going to call someone my best friend, I had to learn to trust their judgment. He also told me that I needed to learn to control my temper if I was going to get anywhere in life.” 

“Well, I’ve missed you, Ron,” Harry said. “You’re my best friend and the distance between us has been really hard on me.”

“I’m sorry about that, mate,” Ron said. “So, are we friends again?”

“Sure, Ron,” Harry said with a smile. Harry truly had missed his best and first friend, so he was happy that the distance between them was finally over.

“Hermione?” Ron asked.

“We’re friends, again,” Hermione said. “I think it will take some time though if you want to get back to where we were before all of this started. You seriously shook my faith in you, Ron, and it’s going to take some time for me to get it back.”

“Fair enough,” Ron said with a smile. He was about to dig into the food laid out in the center of the table when he said, “Oh, I almost forgot. Harry, Percy Flooed Bill while I was in his quarters last night. He said that the Prophet was running a story about you today. He didn’t give us any details, but he told us to tell you that he tried to stop them from running it. He said he’s only the Assistant Editor though and the Editor-in-Chief, Barnabus Cuffe, pulled rank and overruled him.”

“What could they be up to now?” Harry asked of nobody in particular, hoping that whatever the Prophet had decided to print wasn’t anything too bad.

As if on cue, the owl post chose that moment to arrive. Sunday mornings rarely brought much mail, but those who had subscriptions to the Daily Prophet were guaranteed to have mail regardless of the day. A large barn owl dropped Hermione’s copy in front of her. After unfurling the paper, she choked on her orange juice as she gasped at the headline.

“What’s wrong, Hermione?” Harry asked with concern.

Hermione leaned over to Harry and whispered urgently, “The Prophet knows that you’re Gryffindor’s heir.”

“What! How?” Harry exclaimed as he grabbed the paper from his friend and started reading the article.

* * *

Daily Prophet  
Sunday Morning Edition – November 10, 1996  
THE-BOY-WHO-LIVED IS GODRIC GRYFFINDOR’S HEIR  
Other Founder’s Heirs also revealed.

For months now, the entire Wizarding world has been abuzz about news that came out during the Hogwarts Sorting Feast in September. The Sorting Hat told the professors and student body that all four founders of Hogwarts had an heir in the school. Many have speculated who the heirs might be, but now, thanks to information and pictures received from a trusted source inside of Hogwarts itself, we now know who the heirs are.

The-Boy-Who-Lived, Harry James Potter, 16, is the heir of Godric Bryant Gryffindor. However, it has also become known that Harry’s name is in fact not Harry! It turns out that ‘Harry’ is only a nickname, born from a misunderstanding on the part of former Hogwarts Care of Magical Creatures Professor and Gamekeeper Rubeus Hagrid, who recently moved to Marseille, France, following his marriage to Beauxbatons Academy Headmistress, Madam Maxime Olympe.

The truth is that the young heir of Godric Gryffindor is actually named Aarik James Potter, as has been revealed by recently discovered documents unsealed on the authority of Minister of Magic Rufus Scrimgeour. The documents in question were sealed fifteen years ago by Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, using his authority as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, for reasons unknown.

Rufus Scrimgeour has been quoted as saying that if the law allowed him to remove Albus Dumbledore from his post as Chief Warlock for this uncalled for breach of the public’s right to know, he would do it.

We have also learned that Aarik Potter is romantically involved with fellow Hogwarts student, Draco Lucien Malfoy, 16, the only son and heir of Death Eater Lucius Abraxas Malfoy and the late Narcissa Druella Black Malfoy. I know many of you are inclined not to believe that our hero could be involved with the son of the enemy and we didn’t want to believe it either, but our source within Hogwarts has provided us with pictures of the couple kissing. See page 4.

As for the other founder’s heirs, Hogwarts student Zacharias Ethan Smith, 17, has been revealed as the heir of Helga Marie Hufflepuff. Zacharias is the younger cousin of Cedric Jeremiah Diggory, who died two years ago following the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament, during which time, according to Aarik Potter and Albus Dumbledore, You-Know-Who returned to power and his body. Reports from Hogwarts say that Zacharias is openly bisexual, although he is currently single.

The heirs of both Rowena Fiona Ravenclaw and Salazar Sebastian Slytherin both transferred to Hogwarts just this year for their sixth years of education.

Ravenclaw’s heir, Ryan Cole Cromwell, 16, is the grandson of the late Auror Lucinda Elizabeth Malfoy Cromwell, whom he lived with in Asheville, North Carolina, United States, where he attended the Asheville Academy of the Arcane, until her death this past summer. Ryan then returned to the Cromwell ancestral home in Yorkshire, England to live with his uncle, Auror Charles Matthew Cromwell, and transferred to Hogwarts where he was sorted into Ravenclaw house during a private sorting ceremony in the Headmaster’s office before the school year began.

Reports from Hogwarts say that Ryan is gay and dating Muggle-born Hufflepuff student, Justin Finch-Fletchley, 16. See page 4 for pictures of the couple kissing.

Like Aarik Potter, it turns out that Ryan isn’t even his real name. His real name is Kyrian Corelian Laitannen, the son of the late Alexandra Fiona Cromwell and Lord Corelian Anilus Laitannen, who has been visiting Hogwarts with his wife, Lady Asheera Liana Lasinius Laitannen, since the night of the Hogwarts Halloween Ball on the 31st of October. Lord and Lady Laitannen claim they are from Atlantis, which they say was not destroyed as was believed when it sank beneath the Atlantic Ocean thousands of years ago. See page 5 for reports from our experts who say that Lord and Lady Laitannen are crazy.

Lady Asheera Laitannen’s brother, Lord Valen Jorian Lasinius, is purportedly teaching a Fencing class for sixth and seventh year students at Hogwarts this year. No record of Ministry approval of the course, or of the school getting parental permission for the minor students enrolled in the class, could be found by print time. For more information on the other unapproved classes being taught at Hogwarts this year, see page 6.

Unlike Aarik Potter and Zacharias Smith, there are actually two heirs of Rowena Ravenclaw currently at Hogwarts. The other heir is Kyrian’s cousin, Matthew William Cromwell, 20, who teaches an extra-curricular Music class to all interested Hogwarts students. It is reported that Matthew is gay and engaged to Oliver Tristan Wood, 20. In addition to teaching an extra-curricular Art class at Hogwarts, Mr. Wood is perhaps best known for his job as Reserve Keeper for the Puddlemere United Quidditch team.

Salazar Sebastian Slytherin also has more than one heir at Hogwarts now. One of them is Nicolas Phillipe Delaney, 17, the son of Stephen Nicolas Delaney and Jean-Luc Phillipe Byrne Delaney who have been coma patients at St. Althea’s Wizarding Hospital in Paris, France since a Muggle automobile accident when Nicolas was two years old. Following the accident, Nicolas was raised by his grandmother, Angelique Josette Byrne, the new Care of Magical Creatures professor at Hogwarts. In addition to being a Professor, Ms. Byrne is also filling the positions of Keeper of the Keys and Groundskeeper. Like her grandson, she is also an heir of Slytherin.

It is reported that Nicolas Delaney is bisexual and currently romantically involved with William Arthur Weasley, formerly a curse-breaker for Gringotts’ Wizarding Bank, now teaching Potions at Hogwarts! Reports indicate that Albus Dumbledore knows about it and has done nothing to stop it. The fact that the Headmaster of Hogwarts would allow a student to date a professor is most disturbing. See page 4 for pictures of the couple kissing and page 7 for some of the less risqué pictures from Mr. Weasley’s June 1996 layout in Playwitch magazine.

In other news, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named personally led a devastating attack on Inverness and the surrounding area on Saturday. Early reports indicate that at least a hundred wizards and witches are now dead and even more injured. The attack also claimed the lives of an unknown number of Muggles, though it is believed to number close to a thousand.

* * *

Meanwhile, in Professor Dumbledore’s office, Rufus Scrimgeour barged into the office, with a copy of the Daily Prophet in his hand.

“Is this true, Dumbledore?” Scrimgeour demanded. “Is your Potions professor dating a student and you have done nothing to stop it?”

Professor Dumbledore had just finished reading the article in the Prophet moments before the Minister’s arrival. Dumbledore just smiled and said, “Yes, Minister, it’s true. Would you care for some tea? Or a lemon drop, perhaps?”

“I don’t want any bloody tea or lemon drops!” Scrimgeour roared. “I demand that you fire this Professor Weasley immediately!”

“I see no justifiable reason to fire Professor Weasley,” Dumbledore said. “He has been doing an excellent job as Potions professor and he is an extremely valued member of my staff.”

“No justifiable reason?” Scrimgeour asked. “He’s dating a student! Not to mention the fact that he posed nude in Playwitch magazine!”

“Yes, that is true,” confirmed Dumbledore. “However, both Professor Weasley and his boyfriend, Nicolas Delaney, are both legal adults. They can do whatever they want. As for Professor Weasley’s layout in Playwitch, he told me about it when I offered him the job, in case I wanted to retract the offer. I didn’t and therefore I am not going to fire him for it now just because people who didn’t know about it before now do.”

“I don’t care if he’s an adult!” Scrimgeour exclaimed. “As long as Mr. Delaney is a student at this school, he should not be dating a professor. Doesn’t this school have rules about such things? Moreover, Professor Weasley’s layout in Playwitch is unbecoming and not the proper example for a professor to be setting.”

“Yes, Minister, we do,” Dumbledore said. “Hogwarts rules clearly state that students and professors cannot date. However, there is an exception to the rule which says that if the student has reached the age of 17 and is thus a legal adult in the Wizarding world, that they may have any relationship they desire with a professor. As for, the Playwitch issue, as I said, I knew about it when I hired him. I am not bothered by it and I see no reason why you should be. It is not illegal to pose for Playwitch, so it has no bearing on Professor Weasley’s employment at this school.”

“What kind of idiot wrote such a stupid rule?” Scrimgeour asked, deciding to drop the Playwitch issue as he could see he wasn’t getting anywhere with Dumbledore.

“That would be me,” said a feminine voice from the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black.

“And just who are you, Madam?” Scrimgeour asked.

“Well, Minister Scrimgeour,” Rowena answered, “my name is Rowena Fiona Ravenclaw. As I’m sure you know I am one of the four founders of this school and the founder of Ravenclaw House.”

“Dumbledore, is that really?” Scrimgeour asked, suddenly much less angry then he had been. Obviously, coming face to face, in a manner of speaking, with one of the four founders was a bit of a shock.

“Yes, Rufus, it is,” Dumbledore said.

“I didn’t know any portraits of the founders existed in this school.” Scrimgeour said.

“I didn’t know, either, Rufus, until recently,” Dumbledore said. “It seems that the founders’ portraits were all in their private living quarters. Only their heirs are capable of entering them and giving others permission to do so, so it was not known that the founders’ portraits existed until each heir was found and in turn found their portraits.”

“So, you’ve met all four founders, then?” Scrimgeour asked.

“Yes, indeed, Rufus,” Dumbledore said. “I’ve talked at length with Rowena, Helga, Salazar, and Godric. I’ve also had conversations with Rowena’s husband, Brendan, who was the reason she added the clause about student and professor relationships, with the blessings of the other three founders, I might add.”

“Ah,” Scrimgeour said as he sat down and then asked, “Is the offer of tea still open? I think I need to settle my nerves.”

“Of course, Rufus,” said Dumbledore with a twinkle in his eye as he conjured a cup of tea for the man.

* * *

Silence filled the Great Hall, as everyone with subscriptions to the Daily Prophet eagerly read the front page article. The students that did not have subscriptions were reading over their friends’ shoulders.

“You’re Gryffindor’s heir?” Dean asked Harry.

“Yeah, Dean, I am,” Harry asked.

“How long have you known?” Seamus asked.

“Since the night of the Halloween Ball,” Harry answered.

“And your name is really Aarik?” Katie asked.

“Yes,” Harry said, who didn’t really like answering all these questions, but he knew that these questions were inevitable when his classmates found out.

“Are you we really dating, Malfoy?” Neville asked.

“Well, not officially, no,” Harry replied. “It’s true, I did kiss him in the Hospital Wing as those pictures on page four prove, but we aren’t officially an item.”

“You like him, though?” Lavender asked.

“Yes, I do,” said Harry.

Hermione was watching Harry, but she was also keeping a close eye on Ron, watching for the tell-tale signs that he was about to lose his temper. To Ron’s credit, he seemed to be taking very deep breaths and doing his best to stop himself from loosing his temper.

“Ron, I know you must be upset, but,” Harry started, but Ron held up his hand to stop him.

After a few more deep breaths, Ron said, “Harry, I knew that you were gay, so obviously I knew that you would get a boyfriend eventually. I can’t say as I understand why you want to be with Malfoy, but I’ve realized it isn’t my place to dictate who you can and can’t be friends with, let alone who you can date. As long as you don’t expect Malfoy and me to be best friends, I think I can deal with it.”

“I can live with that,” Harry said.

“So, Bill is dating Nicolas Delaney?” Ginny asked.

“Yes,” Hermione asked, “and despite what the Daily Prophet might think there is nothing wrong with it. Hogwarts does have rules against student and professor relationships, but they also clearly state that any student who is of legal age can have any relationship they want with a professor.”

“What I don’t understand is how the Prophet got all these pictures,” Harry said, as he looked at Page 4 of the Prophet. “I mean this picture of Ginny and I was taken inside of Godric’s quarters. Neither of us took a picture and we were the only ones in the room. Godric was there of course, but I doubt he’d even know how to work a camera. Even if he did, he’s a portrait he wouldn’t be able to send the pictures to the Prophet, so I know he didn’t do it either.”

Bill, Ryan, Nick, Zach, and Draco arrived at the Gryffindor table in time to hear Harry’s last statement and Ryan said, “You know, Harry, I’ve just had a thought. A couple months ago, I was in my room in Ravenclaw Tower and I realized that a small book on invisibility charms that my grandmother gave me before she died had disappeared from my trunk. The book had dozens of spells in it and some of them were powerful enough that they could very likely have hidden both a person and a camera flash.”

Ron looked all over the Great Hall and then asked, “Has anyone seen Colin?”

“Colin Creevey?” Hermione asked, before she slapped her forehead and said, “Of course! Why didn’t I think of it? Colin always has that damn camera with him. Professor McGonagall has given him detention on more then one occasion for losing points for Gryffindor House for taking it to classes with him.”

“Why would Colin do this though?” Parvati asked.

“He’s Harry’s number one fan,” Seamus said. “He’s asked me on more then one occasion for information on Harry, but I’ve never told him anything.”

At that moment, a silvery gray mist appeared near the Gryffindor table as Alaric appeared and said, “Hello Aarik. Colin is in the common room of Gryffindor Tower, if you want to talk to him and find out if he’s behind this.”

“Thank you, Alaric,” Harry said as he stood up and headed out of the Great Hall, with Hermione, Bill, Ron, Nick, Ryan, Zach, Justin, and Draco following, in addition to several other members of Gryffindor House.

* * *

Moments later, the Fat Lady swung open to admit the large group of people. She was a bit hesitant to admit non-Gryffindor students to the tower, but considering that both Professor Weasley and the heir of Godric Gryffindor himself told her to, she did.

Colin was indeed sitting in the common room, playing a game of Exploding Snap with Dennis and some of the other fifth-year boys. As soon as Harry came in though, Colin was on his feet and enthusiastically said, “Hiya Harry!”

“Colin, we need to talk,” Harry said as he walked over to the fireplace and traced Godric’s initials on the mantle. By this afternoon everyone who didn’t already know that Harry was Godric’s heir would know anyway, so, Harry saw nothing wrong with opening the fireplace in front of everyone. Everyone in the room who did not know about the secret entrance to Godric’s quarters gasped as the fireplace moved out of position to reveal the archway behind it.

“Harry, wait,” Hermione said.

“What is it, Hermione?” Harry asked.

“When you and Ginny talked in Godric’s quarters,” Hermione said. “What did you say when you let her in?”

“I told her to come in,” Harry said, unsure where Hermione was going with this.

“Did you specify Ginny’s name?” Ryan asked, as he realized where Hermione was going.

Harry thought for a moment and then said, “No, I didn’t.”

“Then you may have given Colin permission without realizing it,” Zach said. “Helga told me to always make sure to specify people’s names, because if I didn’t everyone in hearing distance will get permission to enter the room.”

“I suggest you see if Colin can get in without you saying anything,” Nick said. “The founders said that once you give someone permission, they won’t be able to open the door, but they will be able to enter anytime the entrance is open until you rescind the permission.”

Harry looked at Colin and pointed at the entrance to Godric’s quarters, knowing that the room’s magic would not recognize the non-verbal request as him giving Colin permission to enter the room.

Colin looked apprehensive, as if he wasn’t sure, if he should go or not. Finally, Bill, who was very upset about having his relationship with Nick splashed all over the front page of the Daily Prophet, not to mention his appearance in Playwitch that his mother didn’t know about, said, “Mr. Creevey do as Mr. Potter asks or I will see you in detention every night for the rest of the term!”

Colin didn’t need anymore convincing. He immediately stepped toward the fireplace and pausing for a second outside the archway, he then stepped through it and entered Godric’s quarters.

Harry got a thoughtful look on his face for a moment, before he said, “On second thought, I think this conversation is best had in public. Colin get out of Godric’s quarters immediately.”

Colin didn’t even have time to take one step as he was consumed in red smoke and disappeared from sight for a second before reappearing back in the Gryffindor common room. Harry closed the fireplace and then turned to look at Colin, who looked a bit unsure of himself now that his all time favorite person was glaring daggers at him. The commotion from the common room drew an audience and several more members of Gryffindor House who had been in their dorm rooms were now filing down the stairs to see what was going on.

“Colin, did you steal a book of invisibility charms from Ryan’s trunk?” Harry asked, after taking a moment to reign in his temper.

“No,” Colin answered.

“Do you know who did?” Ryan asked.

Colin looked like he didn’t want to answer the question, so Bill said, “My threat from earlier still stands, Mr. Creevey, so I suggest you start talking.”

“Terry Boot,” Colin said.

“Why did Terry steal my book?” Ryan asked.

“He’s a member of my photography club,” Colin answered.

Katie sighed and said, “That explains a lot. I’ve heard rumors that Colin’s photography club is a front for an unofficial Harry Potter fan club.”

“Is that true, Colin?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Colin admitted.

“Did Terry tell your little group about my book and then you all decided that it was a good idea to steal it so that you could sneak around the castle and get information about Harry without him knowing?”

Colin had the grace to look abashed for a moment before nodding his head and saying, “Yes.”

“Why, Colin?” Harry asked.

“Because you and your friends never tell me anything!” Colin blurted out.

“Colin, has it ever occurred to you that I don’t answer all the personal questions you ask me because I don’t think it’s any of your business?” Harry asked.

“But it is my business,” Colin said. “It’s everybody’s business.”

“Oh really and how do you figure that, Colin?” Ron asked.

Rather than addressing Ron, Colin looked directly at Harry and said, “You are Harry Potter, well, Aarik Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived! The public has a right to know everything there is to know about you.”

“So, Colin, what you’re saying is,” Dean said, “you think that just because Harry was lucky one night as a baby and survived the Killing Curse, that he isn’t entitled to a private life?”

“Exactly!” Colin exclaimed, as he shook his head.

“Whose idea was it to sell what you found out to the Prophet?” Zach asked.

“It was mine,” Colin said. “The world has a right to know about everything that involves Harry.”

“Okay, so you’ve explained why you sold the information about Harry,” Ryan asked, “but what about the rest of the information about the other people in the article?”

Colin looked like it should be obvious and then said, “The more information given, the higher the price the Prophet will pay.”

“You know, Creevey, you’re very lucky that I’m only sixteen,” Draco drawled.

“Why is that, Malfoy?”

“Because the Malfoy family solicitors will only take orders from Lucius until I come of age,” Draco answered. “If I was of age, I’d be suing you for everything your worth for libel and invasion of privacy.”

Harry looked at Colin like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing for a moment, before he pulled out his wand and pointed it directly at the younger boy.

“Colin, since you think that I’m not entitled to have any secrets,” Harry said calmly, “I think you will agree that the same applies to you. Evulgare Arcanus!”

A bright white light shot out of the tip of Harry’s wand and zoomed across the room to hit a scared looking Colin right in the face. Moments later, he coughed and a soap bubble escaped his mouth. The bubble floated for awhile before popping, and suddenly a loud voice said, “Colin is a virgin.”

“Harry, what did you do to my brother?” Dennis asked, although Harry noted that Dennis did not sound particularly mad, just amused.

“I cast the Secret Revealing Charm on him,” Harry said. “Since Colin thinks he’s entitled to blab everyone else’s secrets to the whole world, the spell I just cast is literally washing his mouth out with soap. Every time a soap bubble escapes from his mouth, it will pop and reveal a secret that he’s been keeping about himself.”

Another bubble emerged from Colin’s mouth, popped, and this time the voice said, “Colin is gay.”

One of Colin’s friends, fellow fifth-year Andrew Kirke, decided to help Colin and pulled out his wand. Harry noticed and said, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” but Andrew didn’t listen and said, “Finite Incantatem!”

Colin smiled at Andrew and was about to thank him for stopping the bubbles when another floated out of his mouth, popped and said, “Colin sleeps naked.”

Thinking that his spell didn’t work, Andrew tried again, and was shocked when yet another bubble popped out of Colin’s mouth and the voice said, “Colin slept with a security blanket until he was 10.”

Seeing that Andrew looked like he was going to try again, Harry pointed his wand and said, “Expelliarmus!”

“You’re not helping Colin by trying to dispel the charm,” Harry said as Andrew’s wand flew into Harry’s awaiting hand. “The creator of the spell made it resistant to all spells meant to dispel magical effects. The spell normally lasts for fifteen minutes and the only way to stop it is to let it run its’ course. Every dispel attempt makes the spell last an additional fifteen minutes, so you’ve just added thirty minutes to Colin’s mouth-washing session.”

Colin’s eyes looked like they were about ready to bug out of his head and Andrew looked like he wished he had never done anything. Soon another bubble floated out of Colin’s mouth, popped, and the voice said, “Colin sleeps with a teddy bear named Potter.”

By this point, Colin’s normally creamy white skin was tinged with red and it got redder with each bubble that emerged from his mouth. At this rate, Harry was quite sure that by the time the spell actually stopped, Colin’s skin would be redder then the red used as one of the Gryffindor house colors.

“Colin sucks his thumb while he’s sleeping.”

“Why don’t we all pull up a seat?” Seamus asked. “This is bloody entertaining!”

Harry grinned at Seamus, sat down, and then said, “Let this serve as a lesson to everyone that this is what will happen to the next person who decides that I have no right to a private life. Although, if there is a next time, I’ll make sure to cast it during dinner in the Great Hall, so the entire school can hear everything.”

“Colin’s turn-ons include black hair and green eyes.”

Fourth-year Gryffindor Romilda Vane asked, “Aren’t you going to do anything to Harry for attacking Colin, Professor Weasley?”

Bill pretended to think about the question for a moment, before he said, “No, Miss Vane, I’m not going to do anything. I think Mr. Potter is perfectly justified in what he did to Mr. Creevey.”

Ron grinned at his brother and said, “I suppose it doesn’t help that thanks to Colin, mum is going to be raking your arse over the coals, since I doubt she knew you posed for Playwitch.”

“Thanks Ron, tell everyone, why don’t you!” Bill exclaimed, as his skin started getting almost as red as Colin’s as some of the older Gryffindor girls – and boys – started smiling at him in a lascivious way that just screamed, “I saw the layout and I so want to shag you,” or “You posed for Playwitch? Where can I get a copy?”

“Bill, you now how fast news travels in this school,” Ron said. “Those who didn’t see the Prophet this morning will know every detail before lunch anyway.”

Bill didn’t say anything, because he knew Ron was right and he just didn’t want to admit it.

“Colin is afraid of heights.”

Nick noticed the looks on some of the people’s faces and decided to put a stop to it by wrapping his arm around Bill’s waist and saying, “I can’t stop you from looking, but don’t get any ideas, because Professor Weasley is officially off the market.”

Nick then kissed Bill fully on the lips, with obvious tongue action, to prove his point.

“He’s the Heir of Slytherin!” seventh-year Cormac McLaggen exclaimed. “Where is your Gryffindor house pride, Professor?”

After the kiss ended, Bill smiled and said, “I have plenty of Gryffindor pride, Mr. McLaggen, but trust me, if you had been snogged the way I just was you wouldn’t care that you were snogging a Slytherin. Nick is a bloody good kisser; not that you’ll ever find that out for yourself though, because he’s mine.”

“Colin has a wet dream about a sixth-year boy almost every night.”

“Now it’s getting interesting,” Seamus said with a grin. “How much do you want to bet its Harry that Colin dreams about?”

“Well, that would make sense,” Parvati said. “He is obsessed with Harry and it’s already been revealed that he like’s black hair and green eyes, both of which Harry has.”

“He’s not the only one in the school who has that combination,” Justin commented. “Though I imagine, you are probably right.”

“Colin has been collecting naked pictures of various male members of the house Quidditch teams in the locker room showers since his third year.”

“Interesting,” Parvati said. “I hope the charm tells us who he all has pictures of.”

Several of the girls and quite a few of boys as well, nodded their heads in agreement.

“Colin’s collection includes pictures of Oliver Wood, Fred and George Weasley, Cedric Diggory, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy.”

“Creevey how dare you take pictures of me in the shower!” Draco exclaimed. “I should hex you for that.”

“Now, now, Mr. Malfoy,” Bill said. “There will be no more hexing of Mr. Creevey today. Mr. Creevey, 10 points from Gryffindor for invading your classmates’ privacy. You will also give me your camera and destroy the nude pictures. If I find out that you’ve kept even one of them, I’ll see you in detention every night from now until you leave Hogwarts.”

“Professor Weasley?” Parvati asked. “Could I have the pictures of Fred and George? Fred is my boyfriend, after all, and Padma is dating George. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.”

“I can’t believe this,” Bill said. “I’m a Hogwarts professor and I’m discussing naked photographs of my brothers with a student. There is something very wrong with this picture.”

“Is that a yes or a no, sir?” Parvati asked.

Bill never did answer the question, because at that moment, Colin’s next secret was revealed and it drew everyone’s attention away from Colin’s photo collection.

“Colin’s wet dreams are about sixth-year Slytherin Blaise Zabini.”

“Zabini?” Lavender asked. “I thought for sure that Colin would be lusting after Harry.”

“Hmm, I’ll have to make sure to tell Blaise about this,” Draco drawled. “I’m sure he’ll be quite interested to know that someone is thinking about him that way so often.”

At those words, Colin got redder then one would even think was possible. It was quite clear to everyone in the room that Colin was beyond embarrassed by this point. It seems that fate was smiling on the boy, whether he deserved it or not, for something was about to happen that would take the room’s focus off him.

A tapping at a nearby window got the attention of Cormac, who grinned and opened the window to admit the large barn owl that was perched on the windowsill with a scarlet red envelope in its’ possession. When Bill saw it, he worried that his mother might have seen the Prophet by now and thought, ‘Please don’t let that be for me,’ knowing that if it was, there was no way he’d be able to get out of the common room to a more private place before it exploded on its’ tirade.

Unfortunately, Bill’s worst fear was soon realized as the owl flew right for him and landed on a nearby table. Sure enough, clearly visible on the envelope was Bill’s name – in his mother’s handwriting.

Bill gulped as he picked up the scarlet red howler, before opening the envelope, which promptly emitted the shrill shrieks of an irate Molly Weasley.

WILLIAM ARTHUR WEASLEY – HOW DARE YOU DISGRACE YOURSELF AND THE ENTIRE FAMILY BY POSING IN THAT DIRTY, PORNOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE! I’VE COME TO EXPECT THIS SORT OF BEHAVIOR OUT OF FRED AND GEORGE, BUT NOT YOU!

YOU WERE A PREFECT. YOU WERE HEAD BOY. YOU’RE NOW A HOGWARTS PROFESSOR! YOU ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE POSING IN A MAGAZINE IN YOUR BIRTHDAY SUIT FOR ALL THE PERVERTS WHO HAVE SUBSCRIPTIONS TO THAT PIECE OF FILTH! WHAT IN MERLIN’S NAME POSSESSED YOU TO DO SUCH A THING?

OF COURSE, THEN TO ADD INSULT TO INJURY I HAVE TO FIND OUT FROM THE BLEEDING DAILY PROPHET THAT MY SON IS GAY AND DATING ONE OF HIS STUDENTS, AND NOT JUST ANY STUDENT EITHER, BUT THE HEIR OF SLYTHERIN! HAVE YOU TOTALLY LOST WHAT IS LEFT OF YOUR MIND? DO YOU THINK I WANT YOUR BOYFRIEND’S RELATIVE YOU-KNOW-WHO COMING TO CHRISTMAS DINNER?

YOUR FATHER AND I ARE SO DISGUSTED WITH YOU RIGHT NOW. I SO HOPE THAT THIS HOWLER FINDS YOU IN A ROOM FULL OF PEOPLE, BECAUSE THEN MAYBE YOU WILL FEEL JUST A LITTLE SHRED OF THE EMBARRASSMENT THAT YOUR FATHER AND I FEEL RIGHT NOW!

With that, the Howler ripped itself to shreds and landed at a horrified Bill’s feet.

An uncomfortable silence, broken only by the intermittent popping of another bubble blurting another of Colin’s secrets, filled the room. Some people would normally laugh when someone else got a howler, but nobody was laughing this time. Of course, the fact that the recipient of the howler could take points and give detentions may have had something to do with it.

Laughing at your professor really wasn’t a point-taking or detention deserving offense, but this was a room full of Gryffindors used to being punished by their old Potions professor for far lesser offenses. None of them really wanted to take the chance with their new one, even if he was a Gryffindor. Bill may have proven himself, thus far, to be fairer then Professor Snape, but he was just humiliated in front of a large portion of his students, so that could certainly have an effect on his sense of fairness.

By this point, total silence filled the room. Bubbles were still emerging from Colin’s mouth, but he had run out of secrets by this point, so nothing more was said as each popped. Everyone just stood there, not exactly sure what to do, until a moment later Professor McGonagall came in. The Fat Lady had heard Molly’s screaming, even if she couldn’t make out exactly what was said, and went to get Professor McGonagall.

“The Fat Lady said she heard screaming,” McGonagall asked when she came in. “Professor Weasley what is going on in here?”

Bill was silent, probably still too humiliated to talk, so Nick said, “Well, Professor...”

“Mr. Delaney is your name Professor Weasley?” McGonagall interrupted. “Five points from Slytherin for speaking when you weren’t being spoken too.”

“I’m sorry, Professor,” Nick said. “It’s just that Bill is too humiliated to talk right now and I figured you wanted an answer.”

“Mr. Delaney! Why are you calling a professor by their first name?” McGonagall, who had not yet seen the Daily Prophet, demanded.

“I take it you haven’t seen the Prophet,” Nick answered. “If you had, you’d know that Bill and I are dating, so, he gave me permission to use his first name.”

McGonagall stood there for a second, before finally saying, “All right, well, Mr. Delaney, while I may not agree with students dating their professors, you are 17 years old and the rules say you can have any relationship with your professors you want. Now, since Professor Weasley isn’t talking, perhaps you would be so kind as to explain what is going on here and if anybody else talks, I will not hesitate to take points.”

“Well, Professor, the Daily Prophet ran a front page story this morning,” Nick explained. “In it they revealed the identities of all the heirs of the founders, among other secrets which the parties involved would have preferred to be kept secret. Colin Creevey and the members of his photography club are responsible for selling the secrets to the Prophet. Terry Boot from Ravenclaw stole a book of invisibility charms from his roommate Ryan Cromwell’s trunk and Colin has been using the charms to sneak around the castle gathering information and taking pictures, without anybody knowing.”

“The heirs’ identities have been discovered?” McGonagall asked. “Who are they?”

“Ryan Cromwell is Ravenclaw’s heir, Zacharias Smith is Hufflepuff’s heir, Harry Potter is Gryffindor’s heir, and I am Slytherin’s heir,” Nick answered.

“Why is Professor Weasley too humiliated to speak?”

“He just got a howler from his Mum,” Nick answered. “She berated him in front of everyone here for not telling her in person that he’s gay, dating me, and for posing in Playwitch two years ago. All of which were revealed in this morning’s Prophet.”

“Ah, I see,” said McGonagall. “Now, why are there soap bubbles coming out of Mr. Creevey’s mouth?”

“Harry cast the Secret Revealing Charm on him,” Nick answered. “Colin thinks that as The-Boy-Who-Lived, Harry is not entitled to have any secrets. Therefore, Harry thought it was only right that Colin not have any secrets either. One of Colin’s friends tried to dispel it twice, not realizing that it can’t be dispelled. It’s been running now for about thirty minutes. I’m guessing that Colin has run out of secrets at this point, which is why the bubbles are coming out, but not saying anything.”

McGonagall was quiet again for a few moments, before she turned to look at Colin and said, “Well, in that case, Mr. Creevey, I will see you and every member of your photography club who had a hand in selling secrets to the Prophet in detention and you are to return Mr. Cromwell’s book to him immediately.”

Colin nodded, before heading upstairs to his dorm to collect the book for Ryan, as McGonagall looked around at all the gathered students and said, “All right, all of you back to what you were doing, the shows over.”

* * *

Following the incident with Colin getting permission to enter Gryffindor’s quarters without Harry knowing about it, all four heirs returned to their ancestor’s quarters and rescinded all permissions that they granted since the nights each of them found the rooms.

Professor Dumbledore had given the matter some thought, and after talking to the founders about it, they agreed that all Hogwarts staff members should at least have partial access to the quarters of the founders. The magic of the rooms would allow the heirs to make specific rooms off limits, so, they’d still have plenty of privacy.

The heirs themselves had no problems giving their professors permission to enter the rooms; however, they didn’t really want to give them all permission to open the entrances. In the end, Salazar suggested that the heirs leave the hallway entrance to the quarters open and then have a portrait installed over the doorway. Then anyone with permission would be able to get into the room anytime they needed to, as long as they knew the password to get past the portrait.

Professor Dumbledore agreed that it was a workable solution and portraits were installed the same night. The portraits chosen were that of Rowena’s husband Brendan Carnes-Ravenclaw, Helga’s son William Hufflepuff, Salazar’s wife Valeska Slytherin, and Godric’s twin sister Godiva Gryffindor.

Following the installation of Godiva’s portrait over the corridor entrance to Godric’s quarters, Harry, who had now decided to go ahead and use the name Aarik, as it was now public knowledge, as much as he wished it wasn’t, invited Draco over to talk privately.

“So, what did you want to talk about?”

“I want to talk about us,” Aarik answered.

“I didn’t know there was an us.”

“You saw the Prophet this morning,” Aarik grinned. “It says we’re dating.”

Draco grinned and said, “Well, yes, it did say that. Of course, the Prophet has been known to get their facts wrong before.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” agreed Aarik.

“Of course, I’m hoping that this is not one of those times,” Draco said.

“So am I,” Aarik commented. “I really do like you, Draco. As I said in the Hospital Wing, I wouldn’t go so far as to say I’m in love, but I certainly do find you attractive and I do like the change in your personality.”

“Didn’t like the cold and unfeeling I’m a Malfoy and I’m better than everyone else attitude?” Draco drawled with a grin.

“No, I didn’t,” Aarik confirmed.

“Well, there’s something we have in common then,” Draco said. “I never liked it myself, but I acted that way because that’s the way Lucius wanted me to act and if I didn’t he was apt to punish me.”

“Well, I know what that’s like,” said Aarik. “My Muggle relatives are not what can be described as nice people. In fact, if they weren’t Muggles, they would probably follow Voldemort.”

“So, you mean you weren’t a pampered prince growing up?” Draco asked. “I don’t mean to offend you or anything; it’s just a commonly held belief that as The-Boy-Who-Lived you were treated like a prince.”

“First off, if we’re going to date, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me The-Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One, or anything similar. I don’t like the fame that my parents’ murders and an incident I had no control over have given me.”

“That’s understandable,” Draco said.

“As for the being treated like a prince thing, no, far from it. The Dursleys treated me like dirt. They hate anything that isn’t normal and to them magic is the most abnormal thing there is. They insulted me daily, treated me like a slave, starved me, my cousin Dudley routinely used me as a punching bag, and for the first eleven years of my life, my bedroom was a cupboard under the stairs.”

The look on Draco’s face clearly said that he couldn’t believe his ears.

“I didn’t even know that I was a wizard until I got my Hogwarts letter. It’s also when I learned the truth about my parents’ deaths, as my aunt and uncle had told me they died in a car crash. I never had any friends growing up, either, because whenever I was close to making one, Dudley scared them off. Ron really was my first friend. You offered to be my friend, but when we met at Madame Malkin’s and later on the train, you presented the same ‘I’m better then you’ attitude that the Dursleys have, so that’s why I didn’t want anything to do with you.”

“Wow,” Draco said. “I never would have guessed. I mean, it’s rather ironic really. Every wizarding child of our generation has grown up knowing about you and you didn’t even know that you were a wizard or that our world even existed.”

“Yeah, it is ironic, I suppose,” Aarik agreed. “So, your opinion of me hasn’t changed?”

“Why would it?” Draco queried. “Okay, your childhood wasn’t exactly the way I’d pictured, but that certainly doesn’t mean I like you any less. If anything, I think it makes me like you more.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, you know the old saying,” Draco drawled. “Opposites attract. We’re certainly that when you think about it. I have blond hair, you have black hair, I’m a Slytherin, you’re a Gryffindor, and I grew up like a pampered prince, while you didn’t.”

“I see your point. Of course, we also have a few things in common. We’re both Seekers and we both lost our virginity to guys we weren’t in love with.”

“That’s true,” Draco agreed. “I mean, I do like Blaise, quite a bit, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the sex, but I was never in love with him.”

“Same for Bill and me,” Aarik said. “Another thing we have in common is we’re also rich. I mean, I don’t really know how much you have in total, but my parents did leave me a fair sum of money and I inherited 15 million galleons from Sirius, in addition to all the other Black family holdings.”

“You are rich then, yes,” Draco said. “Not as rich as my family, but then few wizarding families are. I’m really not trying to brag or anything.”

“It’s okay, I brought it up,” Aarik said. “So, do you even have a guess as to how much money you have in your vault?”

“If I had to guess, I’d say somewhere in the area of 50 million galleons, and that’s just my personal vault. That doesn’t include the four or five other Malfoy family vaults that only Lucius has access to. I have no idea how much money might be in those vaults though because he’s probably been helping finance You-Know-Who, not to mention all the generous gifts to public officials.”

“You mean bribes?”

“Yes,” Draco answered. “However, Lucius doesn’t call them that. Rule #50 in the Malfoy Code of Conduct clearly states that Malfoys do not bribe people. They convince people with their charm and a monetary gift. I realize that constitutes a bribe, but we prefer not to call it that.”

“What do you mean the Malfoy Code of Conduct? You mentioned it once before, but I never asked you to elaborate.”

“Well, my family actually has written rules of conduct,” Draco drawled. “Over three hundred of them that all Malfoys are forced to memorize before they are even taught to walk. Lucius would say that I’m spitting in the face of my ancestors, but I think the vast majority of the rules are extremely stupid.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask, but what is the number one rule in the Malfoy Code of Conduct?”

“The number one rule?” Draco asked. “You’re going to hate it. Rule #1 of the Malfoy Code of Conduct states that pure-bloods are better than everyone else. On a similar tract, Rule #24 states that Malfoys are like royalty among the pure-blooded families and are in fact better than all other pure-bloods. Complete and utter nonsense, yes, but there’s not much I can do about the lunacy of my ancestors.”

“Well, that’s true,” agreed Aarik. “So, I suppose that dating me, seeing as how I’m a half-blood, is against your family’s rules?”

“Yes,” Draco answered. “Dating you breaks about half a dozen rules, but to be perfectly honest, I don’t care.”

“Won’t you get into trouble though?”

“Who will I get in trouble with?” Draco asked in response. “I don’t care what Lucius thinks and even if I break the rules, he can’t really do anything to me. Punishment for breaking the rules would be that I’d be disinherited, but unless Lucius provides a new male heir, he can’t disinherit me because once he’s gone, I’m the last of the Malfoy line.”

“I guess it’s a good thing that there’s a spell to let same-sex couples have children,” Aarik said. “We’re both gay, so, that would mean the end of the Malfoys and Potters if there wasn’t.”

“You’re right,” Draco said. “It would also mean the end of the Gryffindor line. The name may have died out, but the bloodline ends with you. So, many in wizarding society would say that we’re both required to have children, if only to insure that the bloodlines reach another generation.”

“Well, I don’t know about you,” Aarik said, “but I’ve had enough of serious discussion for right now.”

“Well, what would you prefer to do then?”

“Snog you senseless,” Aarik answered.

Draco grinned and said, “Well, then Aarik, by all means, commence snogging.”

Aarik returned the blond’s grin, before lunging at him. The two boys were soon wrapped tightly in each other’s arms, as their lips sealed so tightly that an onlooker wouldn’t be able to tell where Draco’s lips ended and Aarik’s began.

* * *

To be continued.


	27. The War Hits Close to Home, Part One

Harry Potter and the Return of the Heirs  
By J.C. Vascardi

* * *  
Chapter Twenty-Seven:  
The War Hits Close to Home, Part One  
* * *

The next evening, Monday, November 11th, Ryan, Matt, and Oliver were sitting in the common room of Rowena’s quarters chatting about Matt and Oliver’s nuptials next month. Matt and Oliver had talked about it and decided that they were going to take full advantage of the benefits of an Atlantean wedding, including the use of the optional earrings.  
Normally, they might have decided not to use them, but the point that Ryan had made when Corelian explained about the jewelry had stuck with both of them. The Wizarding world was at war and both Matt and Oliver had at that point joined the Order of the Phoenix, so they knew that there was always a chance that they might be kidnapped by Voldemort’s minions, especially now that it was common knowledge that Matt was an heir of Rowena Ravenclaw. Therefore, the ability to communicate with one another telepathically would definitely come in handy.

“I’m happy you agreed to let me sponsor you,” Ryan said.

“Well, Ry, how could we refuse?” Oliver asked. “I mean eternal youth and more time together? We’d be crazy to say no.”

“Definitely,” Matt agreed. “Now, if only father would meet someone, you could sponsor him too.”

“Have you heard from him lately?” Ryan asked. “I haven’t. With the battle in Inverness this past weekend, I’m rather worried.”

“No, I haven’t,” Matt said, “and you’re not the only one who’s worried. He usually checks in with me by Floo on Sunday nights. Last night was the first time since I started teaching that he didn’t.”

“Well, I’m sure he’s fine, Matt,” Oliver said. “Maybe with the battle on Saturday, he was exhausted and forgot all about checking in. You’ll probably hear from him tonight.”

“I hope so,” Matt said.

A lull in the conversation was interrupted when there was a tapping noise on the window. Ryan got up to open the window and admit the owl, who was carrying an official looking envelope. The owl flew over to Matt and held out its leg as he took the envelope. Ryan gave the owl a treat before it flew out of the window.

Matt looked at the envelope for several long moments, not sure if he wanted to open it, because he was afraid of what kind of mail he might be getting with the official seal of the Auror Office on it. Finally, he took a deep breath, opened the letter and read it. Shortly after, he sobbed and the letter dropped to the floor as he buried his face in Oliver’s shoulder. Oliver looked at Ryan and mouthed the words, “What does it say?”

Ryan picked up the fallen letter and read:

Dear Mr. Cromwell,

Kingsley Shacklebolt, Head of the Auror Office, regrets to inform you that your father, Charles Matthew Cromwell, has been killed in the line of duty during the most recent Death Eater attack on Inverness. Please come to the Ministry at 9 a.m. tomorrow morning to file the necessary paperwork to release the body and to collect your father’s personal effects from his cubicle.

The Office of Family Services has also asked us to inform you that as the only suitable living relative over the age of 17, you will need to assume the guardianships of your cousin, Ryan Cole Cromwell, and your second cousin, Draco Lucien Malfoy, until their 17th birthdays next year. Please stop in at their office tomorrow during your visit to the Ministry to sign the necessary paperwork.

As you do not work at the Ministry, please use the Visitor’s Entrance, thank you.

Signed,  
Alexandra Kirkwood  
Secretary, Auror Office

Ryan couldn’t believe his eyes and read the letter a second time. First, his grandmother died in her sleep, and now his Uncle Charles had been killed? Ryan collapsed into a nearby armchair, as the letter from the Auror Office fell to the floor for the second time that night.

By this point, Oliver instinctively knew what the cause of Ryan and his love’s distress must be, and he wrapped Matt tightly in his arms in an attempt to comfort him. Matthew continued to sob on Oliver’s shoulder, thoroughly soaking the fabric covering it, but Oliver didn’t care. He was sure that he’d be reacting the same way if he’d gotten a letter saying that one of his parents had died, especially if it was his last remaining parent.

* * *

The next morning, Tuesday, November 12, 1996, many of the students were feeling rather depressed because the first Quidditch match of the season had yet to take place. In years past, it was usually the first Saturday of November, which should have been November Second, but Professor Dumbledore cancelled the match for reasons that he chose not to elaborate upon.

Many of the students had hoped that the game would be played on the following Saturday, November Ninth, but now, obviously, that day had come and gone and still no match. At this point, many of the students feared that the entire Quidditch season had been cancelled.

“Can you imagine a year without Quidditch?” Ron asked.

“Yes,” Aarik said.

“What? How can you say that?” Seamus asked.

“I didn’t mean that I wouldn’t be upset by it,” Aarik clarified. “I only meant that I could imagine a year without it. We already had one, in case you forgot.”

“True, but that was because of the Triwizard Tournament,” Dean said. “I mean, true, You-Know-Who has stepped up the war, but still a year without Quidditch? Professor Dumbledore said they added extra security to the pitch this year, what could be the problem?”

“Maybe with the attack on Hogsmeade,” Hermione suggested, “and now the attack on Inverness, they’ve decided the extra security wasn’t enough?”

Before anyone could answer, Madam Hooch abruptly walked into the Great Hall and went to stand in front of the staff table. Placing the tip of her wand against her throat, she addressed the students, “Attention, please. The Gryffindor vs. Slytherin Quidditch match has been rescheduled. It will be tonight at five o’clock. We don’t usually have evening games or games during the week; however, for reasons of security, we are not following the normal game schedule this year. None of the games will be played on the days that they have been in the past. Nobody except me and the Headmaster will know in advance when the matches will be played, so Captains, I suggest you make sure that your teams are ready at a moment’s notice.”

Madam Hooch paused for a moment, and then added, “There has been some concern that some students in this school might send word to the Death Eaters about the scheduling change. The Headmaster and I sincerely hope that no student would ever do such a thing, but we aren’t taking any chances. Until today’s game is over, all of the Floos and all outgoing owls will be being monitored. If any student is caught telling any outside source, even if it isn’t a Death Eater, about the scheduling change, they will receive detention with Mr. Filch every night for the rest of the term and 500 points will be taken from their house. That is all, thank you, and I will see you at the pitch this evening.”

“You think we’re ready, Aarik?” Lavender asked.

“Yeah, I do,” said Aarik. “Katie has made sure we’ve been having regular practices.”

“You think you’ll be able to play against your boyfriend?” Neville asked.

“We discussed that,” Aarik said. “We decided not to allow our relationship off the pitch to affect us during games. In other words, he doesn’t stand a chance, because I intend to get the Snitch.”

The other Gryffindors at the table cheered and the entire Great Hall was soon abuzz with a new energy. The students were obviously looking forward to the match tonight.

* * *

Meanwhile, Matthew, Oliver, and Corelian were in the Headmaster’s Office with Dumbledore and McGonagall, preparing to leave for the Ministry.

“How do you plan on getting to the Ministry?” McGonagall asked. “The letter says you’ll need to use the Visitor’s Entrance.”

“I’m going to make Matthew, Oliver, and myself invisible and then Apparate us to the Visitor’s Entrance,” Corelian answered.

“Why are you still here then?” McGonagall asked. “The appointment is in an hour. Shouldn’t you have left already? You’ll need to be outside the school wards in order to Apparate.”

“That isn’t necessary,” Matthew said.

McGonagall looked confused and then said, “Matthew, you’re a professor. You know nobody can Apparate in or out of Hogwarts. The wards simply won’t allow it.”

“Right you are, Minerva,” Corelian said with a smile. “However, the founders never met an Atlantean and thus the wards erected around this castle do nothing to block Atlantean magic. It’s not that different from the magic humans use, but it’s different enough that the wards can’t block it. How do you think Asheera and I got past them the night of the Halloween Ball? Albus was able to detect that the wards were being breached, but he couldn’t do anything about it.”

“Hmm,” said Phineas Nigellus, who was actually in his portrait for once. “You should do something about that Albus.”

“We plan to,” Albus said. “The week after Christmas the members of the Circle of Atlantis are coming to Hogwarts to help strengthen the wards.”

Armando Dippet looked at the group from his portrait and asked, “Why wait? Considering the war, shouldn’t the wards be as strong as possible?”

“I agree with you, Armando,” Corelian said with a smile. “However, the week after Christmas is the soonest that it can be done. Atlantean security and the continued protection of the ancient shield artifacts must be taken into consideration. The other members of the Circle cannot leave their posts until temporary replacements can be obtained. Prince Andenar and Princess Alianna are guarding the Life and Cosmos artifacts for Asheera and me. Queen Calliara can guard the Fire artifact, but King Erevan is too busy running Atlantis to guard one, even temporarily, so six more people are needed and training them takes time.”

“Would it really be so bad to leave the artifacts unprotected for a short while?” the portrait of Dilys Derwent asked. “What’s the worst that could possibly happen?”

“The worst?” Corelian asked. “If even one of the artifacts was left unguarded for even a short period of time, the Kingdom of Atlantis could be completely destroyed and if one of these artifacts fell into the wrong hands, it would be disastrous. We’re talking about extremely powerful shield artifacts created by Poseidon himself. Currently, they serve the purpose they were created for: shielding Atlantis from the ocean. In the wrong hands, however, their immense shielding power could be used for much more nefarious purposes. If Voldemort got his hands on even one of the artifacts, he could use its power to shield his armies against harm. The war would be lost, because the only power that would stand a chance against the shielding would be that of one of the Olympians, and then only Zeus or Amphitrite.”

“Aren’t you forgetting Hera?” Phineas Nigellus asked. “She was the Queen of the Gods.”

“True,” Corelian said. “However, according to the ancient texts in Atlantis, Hera ranked below Poseidon and Hades in power. The three most powerful Olympians were Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades, in that order. Their wives were each a match for their husbands in power, but could be beaten by the other two. So, while Hera could hold her own against Zeus, she was not strong enough to stand against Poseidon or Hades. I know that may seem strange, but the priests think it had to do with the bonds of an Olympian marriage. When Olympians married, it equalized them in power, thus making Hera a match for Zeus, Amphitrite a match for Poseidon, and Persephone a match for Hades.”

“So, that means that the six most powerful Olympians were Zeus, Poseidon, Hades, Hera, Amphitrite, and Persephone?”

“Correct Minerva,” Corelian answered. “Persephone is an interesting case actually, because Amphitrite was a Nereid, so Persephone’s elevation to Queen of Tartarus is the only example of a second-generation Olympian becoming more powerful than a first-generation Olympian. After marrying Hades, Persephone out-powered both her mother and her Aunt Hestia.”

Looking at the clock on the fireplace mantle, Oliver said, “Well, we have half-an-hour now, we should probably be going.”

“Yes, we should,” said Corelian. “Goodbye all.”

Within moments, Corelian, Matthew, and Oliver vanished from sight as Corelian made the three of them invisible and then Apparated them out of the office to the dingy street that the Visitor’s Entrance was located on. Seeing nobody around, Corelian lifted the invisibility spell and the three of them walked over to the broken-down red telephone box.

“It’ll be a tight fit,” Corelian said, “but I think we can probably all get in it.” He grinned at Matt and Oliver, and added, “I’m sure you two don’t mind being pressed up against one another.”

“Not at all,” Oliver said and Matthew nodded.

Corelian opened the door of the box, allowing Matthew and Oliver to enter first, before he entered himself. It wasn’t nearly as tight a fit as Corelian had thought it might be. The box was obviously magically enlarged on the inside, making it much more roomy then it appeared to be from outside. Picking up the receiver, Matthew dialed the numbers 6-2-4-4-2.

Seconds later, a woman’s voice said, “Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business.”

“Matthew Cromwell. My father was Auror Charles Cromwell. I’ve been asked to clean out his cubicle and to visit the Office of Family Services to assume the guardianships of two minor wizards in his care. I have two people with me.”

“Names and business?” The welcome witch asked.

“Oliver Wood,” Oliver said. “I’m Matthew’s fiancé. I’m here for moral support, as he is understandably very upset about his father’s death.”

“Indeed. Third person?”

“Lord Corelian Laitannen,” Corelian said. “I’m the biological father of one of the wizards that was in Auror Cromwell’s care and I’ve come to petition Family Services to name me his legal guardian.”

“Could you please spell your name, third visitor?” The welcome witch asked and it was obvious that she was annoyed that anyone coming through the Visitor’s Entrance would have an unusual enough name that she had to ask for the spelling.

“Of course,” Corelian said and he proceeded to spell his name.

“Thank you,” the witch said. “Visitors, please take the badges and attach them to the front of your robes.”

At that moment, there was a click and a rattle as three square silver badges fell out of the coin return of the telephone. The three men quickly affixed the appropriate badges to their robes.

“Visitors to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wands for registration at the security desk located at the far end of the Atrium.”

The floor shuddered, before it began to go down, much like a lift. When it stopped, the doors opened and the witch said, “The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day.”

Exiting the box, the three of them quickly got in the small line of people waiting to be searched by security, before being cleared to head over to the security desk to register their wands. Arriving at the security desk, the man seated behind the counter said, “Wand, please.”

Matthew produced his wand first and the security wizard dropped it onto a strange device that looked like a set of scales, except it only had one dish.

“Nine and one-quarter inches, dragon heartstring core, in use nine years; is that correct?”

“Yes,” Matthew said.

“Next,” the wizard behind the desk said.

Oliver handed over his wand.

“Ten and three-quarters inches, unicorn tail core, in use nine years; is that correct?”

“Yes,” Oliver answered.

“Next.”

Corelian stepped up next and handed over his wand. ‘This should be interesting,’ he thought as he grinned inwardly.

The security wizard placed the wand on the brass device and it began to vibrate. After a minute, it started to vibrate more and after a minute, it stopped. Finally, a small strip of parchment came out, which the wizard took and read.

“Let’s see here fourteen inches. Hmm, can’t say as I’ve seen this happen before.”

“What’s that?” Corelian asked.

“The core and time in use are unknown,” the security wizard said. “I’m sorry, sir, but I will have to confiscate this. We can’t have unknown wands roaming about the Ministry and I shall have to order your arrest.”

“On what charge, pray tell?” Corelian asked, obviously not the slightest bit concerned about the idea of being arrested.

“You knowingly brought an unknown magical substance into the Ministry, which is illegal,” the security wizard said.

“It would be inadvisable to arrest me,” Corelian said.

“And why is that?”

“As you can see from my visitor’s badge,” Corelian said, “My name is Lord Corelian Laitannen and you can’t arrest me because I have diplomatic immunity.”

“Diplomatic immunity?” The security wizard said. “What is your country of origin?”

“The Royal Kingdom of Atlantis,” Corelian answered.

The security wizard laughed at that. “Ha! I thought your name sounded familiar. You’re that idiot who thinks that Atlantis survived the sinking. I read all about it in the Prophet.”

“I assure you, sir,” Corelian said, “I am no idiot. I am from Atlantis and I could care less if you believe me or not. I possess the necessary papers that name me the official Atlantean Ambassador to Britain and Ireland. According to Section 7, Paragraph C of the Decree on International Magical Cooperation, that grants me diplomatic immunity and you cannot arrest or detain me.”

The security wizard just sat there, silently, for a moment, before he said, “I’m only an underpaid security wizard. This is over my head. You’ll have to see the Minister of Magic; his office is on Level One. I will send word that you’re coming. I am required to keep your wand, however, pending the Minister’s word to the contrary.”

“Very well, I shall return for my wand after my meeting with the Minister,” Corelian said.

* * * 

Lucius Malfoy was in his study at the Château De Malfoy in a small French village. While called a château, it was nowhere near the size of Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire; just a small, ten-bedroom country house, really, that the family used for vacations. It was here that Lucius had been living since his escape from the Azkaban prison ship. He could have gone to the Manor to live, but he decided that he wanted some time away to reflect and make plans for the future. He still answered Voldemort’s summons and participated in all the battles, but he also had much more important things on his mind – like the future of the Malfoy family.

Lucius had always thought that Draco was a pathetic little whelp. He blamed Narcissa for coddling the boy too much. However, Draco was also the only male heir to the Malfoy line, so as much as Lucius would have liked to disinherit Draco, he couldn’t, unless he provided a new heir.

“Lucius, darling, where are you?”

“I’m in my study,” Lucius said loudly so the other person would hear him.

After a few minutes, the other person entered the room. It was none other than Bellatrix Lestrange, Narcissa’s sister, Draco’s aunt, and Lucius hoped, the mother of his new heir.

“Ah, you’re looking lovely this evening, Bella,” Lucius said as he stood from his desk and walked over to his sister-in-law.

“Thank you, Lucius,” Bellatrix said. It was true, Bellatrix had been working on her appearance over the last few months, and while she wasn’t quite the ravishing beauty she had been before her time in Azkaban, she was looking much better.

Lucius didn’t waste anymore time with words as he pulled Bellatrix into his arms and kissed her on the lips. Bellatrix happily returned the kiss, as Lucius guided her over to a nearby sofa. Once there, Lucius pulled out his wand and cast the necessary charm to divest both Bellatrix and himself of their clothes.

“I love you, Bella,” Lucius said as they coupled. “I should have married you instead of Narcissa.

“I agree, Lucius, darling,” Bellatrix said. “Narcissa always was a weak little bitch. She was much too kind and caring. I must say I found her nauseating at times.”

“You’re not the only one,” Lucius said. “Why do you think we only had Draco?”

“Narcissa told me it had something to do with the Malfoy Code of Conduct,” Bellatrix said, before moaning in pleasure.

“Well, that isn’t the reason,” Lucius said. “The Malfoy Code does state that Malfoys must not have an excess of children and that an excess is more than two, but the real reason we never had more children was because I found her niceness nauseating and because after Draco was born, Narcissa routinely refused to perform her conjugal duties.”

“You should have forced her to.”

“Oh trust me, I did,” Lucius drawled. “I raped that bitch sister of yours on several occasions; however, it was to no avail. She just would not get pregnant again. Looking back on it, I know she knew how to cast a few spells wandless. I think she must have learned how to cast a Birth Control Charm wandless.”

“Stupid little wench,” Bellatrix said.

“Yes, well, Bella,” Lucius drawled, “let’s not talk about that bitch anymore. Let’s just enjoy this and hope that you will soon be carrying a male Malfoy child, so that I can disinherit that little whelp, Draco.”

“Yes, Lucius, darling,” Bellatrix said. “Let us hope.”

* * * 

“Are you the so-called Atlantean Ambassador?” the Minister’s secretary asked.

“There’s nothing so-called about me, madam,” Corelian answered. “I truly am from Atlantis and whether you believe that or not, is not my problem.”

“Well, you’re partially right,” the secretary said. “It really doesn’t matter if I believe you or not. It does matter though that the Minister believes you. If he doesn’t, you will be arrested and after the hearing, you could find yourself in Azkaban.”

“Azkaban?” Corelian asked. “Isn’t that a bit extreme?”

“Not at all, Mr. Laitannen,” the secretary said. “We are at war, in case you didn’t know. We don’t take kindly to people entering the Ministry with unknown wands. It raises serious questions about what they intend to do with them. The biggest fear being that they may intend to assassinate the Minister.”

“I assure you, madam; the thought of assassinating the Minister never crossed my mind. I do not now, nor have I ever, intended to harm a single hair on Minister Scrimgeour’s head. Anyway, when can I see him? I’m sure he’s a busy man, but so am I, and I don’t have all day.”

“One moment, I’ll check,” the secretary said as she stood, knocked on the Minister’s door, and went in. A few minutes later, she came back and said, “The Minister will see you now.”

“Thank you,” Corelian said with a smile to the secretary, before walking into the Minister’s office.

“Please have a seat,” Rufus said as Corelian entered.

“Thank you,” Corelian said as he sat down in one of the chairs in front of the large and ornate desk.

“So, I hear you claim to be an ambassador from Atlantis,” Rufus said. “You must understand, of course, how unbelievable that is. Atlantis was destroyed thousands of years ago.”

“I assure you it wasn’t destroyed,” Corelian said. “It’s still a thriving kingdom.”

“How?” Rufus asked. “It sank.”

“I’m not disputing that,” Corelian said. “Atlantis did, indeed, sink. However, that was not by accident, it was by design. My ancestors had a huge continent populated entirely by magical creatures and people to hide from Muggle view. Sinking the kingdom beneath the waves was their answer to the problem.”

“So you’re saying that your ancestors were powerful enough to sink a continent and have it survive at the bottom of the ocean?” Rufus asked. “Forgive me if I find that hard to believe.”

“My ancestors were powerful, yes,” Corelian said. “Sinking a continent, though, was beyond their power. It was not beyond the power of Atlantis’ Patron Deity, however. It was Poseidon who sank Atlantis, after creating nine powerful artifacts that would shield the kingdom from the ocean.”

Taking some time to mull over what Corelian had just said, Rufus asked, “Aren’t you a bit young to be an ambassador, boy?”

“First off, I would ask that you not call me ‘boy,’” Corelian said. “Secondly, I am more than old enough to be an ambassador. I am, in fact, older than you.”

Rufus looked at Corelian for a moment, before he said, “Do you take me for a total idiot? You cannot possibly be more than 20 years old.”

“Thank you.”

“That was not meant as a compliment, merely an observation of fact.”

“I shall take it as one, however,” Corelian said. “Now, to answer your question, no, I do not believe you to be an idiot. I’m sure you would never have become Minister of Magic or Head of the Auror Office if you were an idiot. I am, however, older than you are. I realize I don’t look older, but that’s because Atlanteans are eternally youthful and extremely long lived.”

“Define extremely long lived.”

“750 plus years, on average.”

“So how old do you claim to be then?”

“I do not claim anything,” Corelian answered. “I am merely stating a fact. As for how old I am, I’m 296.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Feel free to use Veritaserum on me, Minister,” Corelian said. “I’m telling you the truth. Of course, perhaps the best proof I could give you would be to take you to Atlantis. There’s an old saying – seeing is believing – perhaps if you saw it with your own eyes, you’d be more apt to believe me. I can even take you to the Royal Hall of Records and show you my birth certificate. It will show quite clearly that I was born on Tuesday, March 05, 1700, in the City of Atlantia, which is the royal capital of Atlantis. I could even introduce you to His Majesty King Erevan Rivarendell, while we’re there.”

“If you think I’m going anywhere with you, you’re mistaken,” Rufus said.

“Well, I wasn’t suggesting you come with me alone,” Corelian explained. “You’re welcome to bring as many people as you’d like for your own security. I would need my wand in order to create a Portkey, but you’re welcome to confiscate it again afterwards if it would make you feel better.”

“I understand your wand’s core and the time it’s been in use was undeterminable,” Rufus said. “I cannot allow you to have it back. It is illegal to bring an unknown magical item into the Ministry, as the security wizard at the desk has already told you.”

“Yes, he told me. Of course, I know what my wand’s core element is and how long it’s been in use. It really isn’t my fault that your machine isn’t up to date, although, it isn’t really your fault either. The blame lies with King Erevan’s father and grandfather, I’m afraid. Their Majesties King Tyriand and King Isulus were both highly xenophobic and isolated the kingdom from the rest of the world long before even the founders of Hogwarts were born.”

“That’s impossible,” Rufus said. “The Hogwarts founders lived and died over a thousand years ago.”

“Yes, they did,” agreed Corelian. “However, you will remember I told you that Atlanteans are very long lived. King Tyriand was 761 years old when he died and his father, King Isulus, holds the record for the longest living Atlantean. He was 872 when he passed away.”

“You are truly insane if you think that I’m going to believe any of this. Nobody can live to be as old you claim to be, let alone as old as you claim these Tyriand and Isulus people were.”

‘Cor, honey, you’re not getting anywhere with that man,’ Asheera said telepathically in Corelian’s mind. ‘He obviously needs tangible proof, so I think you should take him to Atlantis.’

‘He already refused to go, Ash,’ Corelian responded.

‘Then take the extreme approach,’ Asheera said. ‘Kidnap him. Allow him to see Atlantis with his own eyes, meet the people, meet the King, visit the Observatory – there’s no way he’ll be able to deny that Atlantis still exists.’

‘I like the way you think,’ Corelian thought. Without a word, Corelian cast a silencing charm, followed by a powerful charm to lock the Minister’s office door.

“I can see that I’m not getting you anywhere with you, Minister,” Corelian said as he stood up. “I guess I shall be on my way then.”

Rufus stood and said, “Yes, on your way to Azkaban.”

Corelian smiled at Rufus, paused for a moment, and said, “No, I’ll be on my way home to Atlantis now and I think I’ll take you with me.”

Corelian raised both of his arms and began chanting in an ancient Atlantean dialect.

“What in Merlin’s name are you doing?” Rufus demanded, as he pulled out his wand. “Desist at once!”

Corelian ignored Rufus, as he continued to chant. Four bright shafts of golden light soon streamed down from the ceiling, surrounding Corelian, before a large spiral of white magical energy began to encircle him. Corelian lowered his hands so that they were pointing directly at Rufus and incanted a few more words in Atlantean, before a beam of white-gold light shot forth from his fingertips and hit Rufus in the chest. The Minister of Magic glowed an ethereally golden color for a moment before he disappeared in a puff of smoke, followed shortly thereafter by Corelian himself.

* * *

While Corelian went down to Level One to meet with the Minister, Matthew and Oliver proceeded to the Aurors’ Office on Level Two. Matthew held Oliver’s hand tightly. Matthew had been here before many times to visit his father, but the knowledge that his father was now dead, made this trip extremely hard and Matthew was glad Oliver was there. He honestly didn’t think he could handle making this trip alone.

After a few words with Alexandra Kirkwood, Matthew and Oliver proceeded down to Charles’ cubicle. The walls of the cubicle were covered in newspaper clippings and pictures about Dark wizards and other people that the Aurors were working on tracking down. There were, however, a number of personal items as well, including several family photographs.

Matthew sobbed and Oliver wrapped him up in a tight embrace as Matthew picked up a picture of him and his parents. The picture was taken on the day that Matthew finished his education at Hogwarts. Charles had been extremely proud of his son, since Matthew had been in the top five percent of his class and had earned N.E.W.Ts in all eight subjects he’d taken, five of which were Outstandings.

“I remember posing for this,” Matthew said, said clearing his throat and drying his eyes. “Dad was so proud of me. Mum, on the other hand, well, she was proud, but at the same time, she wasn’t.”

“Why not?”

“She thought that my schooling at Hogwarts was a waste of time,” Matthew answered. “She wanted to pull me out of Hogwarts after second year so that I could attend Eton.”

“What is Eton?” Oliver asked.

“A well-respected British Muggle school,” Matthew answered, “which is very popular with the royal family. Mum thought two years at Hogwarts was more then enough. She figured I’d learned enough to control my powers and that I should attend Eton and get a proper British education. She always complained that education at Hogwarts was not well-rounded enough. Eton is an all-boy school, so I think she also hoped I’d make good friends with a few classmates, preferably those of royal birth, in the hopes that I’d meet and fall in love with one of their sisters and marry into the royal family.”

“Hmm, well, the all-boy part doesn’t sound bad, if you ask me,” Oliver said with a grin.

Matthew returned the grin and said, “Well, that’s true, plenty of people to look at and lust over. However, one has to remember that the Muggle world’s view on same-sex relationships is vastly different than our world’s view. Few countries legally allow same-sex marriages and in some countries, it’s even illegal for them to have sex. In fact, in some countries being gay is even punishable by death.”

“That’s horrible.”

“Yeah, I know it is. Makes me glad to be a wizard,” Matthew said as he conjured up a cardboard box and began to pack his father’s belongings. More tears fell during this time, but Oliver was there for him, and that made the task much easier to bear.

* * *

King Erevan and Queen Calliara Rivarendell were just getting ready to leave the throne room and head into the dining room for a bite to eat when the lights flickered for a second.

“I think your brother is coming, Calli,” King Erevan said with a smile.

“My dear Van, what gives you that idea?”

“His flair for dramatic entrances,” King Erevan said. “What else would make the lights flicker like that?”

Queen Calliara never answered, because at that moment, a burst of wind blew threw the room and a rumble of thunder sounded as a bolt of lightning struck the floor about ten feet away from King Erevan and Queen Calliara’s thrones. From the inferno of flames, blue this time instead of green, two people emerged. One the royal couple recognized, the other, they did not.

Rufus Scrimgeour did not look happy. He looked at Corelian angrily and said, “Where are we? How did you do that? You’ll rot in Azkaban for this!”

“I think not,” Corelian said as he turned away from Rufus, bowed to his King and Queen and said, “Your Majesties, may I present Rufus Scrimgeour, the British Minister of Magic.” Looking over at Rufus, Corelian added, “You refused to believe me, but perhaps you’ll believe His Majesty King Erevan Rivarendell of Atlantis and his wife Queen Calliara.”

“What seems to be the problem, Corelian?” Calliara asked. “Not that we aren’t pleased to meet Minister Scrimgeour, but why have you brought him here?”

“The war with Voldemort claimed Charles,” Corelian said with a look of sadness on his face. Corelian hadn’t seen Charles in sixteen years, but his loss had hit him hard, as Charles was almost his brother-in-law. “So, I went to the Ministry to petition the Office of Family Services for guardianship of Kyrian until he reaches his age of majority in Britain, which is 17, next year. Anyway, the security wizard wanted to arrest me because the machine they use to weigh wands couldn’t determine how long my wand has been in use or what the core is. I’m told that it’s illegal to bring unknown magical items into the Ministry, punishable, apparently, by time in Azkaban Prison.”

“You cannot be arrested, Corelian,” King Erevan said. “I named you an Ambassador to Britain and Ireland.”

“Yes, well,” said Corelian, “that’s the problem, Your Majesty. Minister Scrimgeour, in addition to several other people in Britain, thanks to some so-called experts quoted in the Daily Prophet newspaper believe that Asheera, Valen, and I are all crazy to think that Atlantis survived the sinking. So, Minister Scrimgeour doesn’t want to accept that I have diplomatic immunity, because he thinks my country of origin was destroyed thousands of years ago.”

“Ah, yes, well, I can see how that could be a problem,” King Erevan said with a smile to Corelian, before turning to Rufus and saying, “Corelian Laitannen may be many things, Minister, but crazy he is not. I’ve known him all my life and my Queen is his sister. Whether you believe it or not, you are now in the Atlantean Royal Palace, overlooking the City of Atlantia, capital of the Royal Kingdom of Atlantis. It was not destroyed, despite what your experts think. However, I am fully aware that you may not wish to take my word for it, so if you will please put away your wand, I shall personally take you on the grand tour of the city and prove once and fall all that Atlantis, in all her glory, is still alive and well.”

Rufus stood silently for a moment, before he lowered his wand, and put it into a pocket on his robes. “This tour had better be convincing. If it isn’t, I’m afraid I will have no choice but to order Mr. Laitannen’s arrest and I will see that he spends the next several years in Azkaban. The Dementors might have abandoned the prison, but it still is not a pleasant place to spend one’s time.”

“I’m sure it isn’t, Minister,” Calliara said with a smile and a wink to her brother. “However, I’m certain that after this tour, you will believe my brother. Come now, let Erevan and I show you our kingdom.”

King Erevan stood still for a moment and then said, “Calliara, my dear, I’ve had a thought. It might be better if we take more than just Minister Scrimgeour on this tour. While being Minister of Magic does grant him a fair of amount of influence, I question if it’s enough to convince a majority of Wizarding Britain.”

“Hmm, yes, you do have a point, my love,” Calliara said. “Do you have any ideas, Corelian?”

“Yes, Your Majesty, I do,” Corelian said as he bowed again. He then raised his left hand and conjured a horn made of a vibrant shade of pink coral. Corelian put it to his lips and blew. Within seconds, several pops could be heard as more people entered the room.

The newcomers, save one, gathered around Corelian, for they were the members of the Circle of Atlantis. The one who stayed back was the King and Queen’s daughter-in-law, Princess Alianna, who was temporarily guarding the Cosmos sphere for Corelian. With Corelian calling the Circle himself, she wasn’t about to presume to lead this impromptu Circle meeting.

“You called Corelian?” Lady Serena Laitannen asked. She was Corelian’s youngest sister and the Mistress of the Order Sphere.

“Yes, Serena,” Corelian said with a smile, before addressing all the members, “Members of the Circle, the sanity of everyone in Atlantis has been called into question. The people of Wizarding Britain think that everyone who thinks Atlantis survived the sinking are crazy. Already here is British Minister of Magic Rufus Scrimgeour. Our benevolent King and Queen are going to personally give him a tour of Atlantis to prove that we Atlanteans are not crazy. However, the Minister is only one man, and our wise King hypothesizes that the Minister’s word alone will not be enough to convince the populace of Wizarding Britain. So, I will give you each the name of a person and the place in Britain they can most likely be found, at which point I want you to bring them here post haste.”

The other members of the Circle nodded their understanding and Corelian gave each member the name of a person for them to summon. Within moments, the once quiet room was filled with the sounds of eight chanting voices. Much like what happened in Scrimgeour’s office, the eight Circle members standing around Corelian were soon surrounded by shafts of light and spirals of energy – the colors different, depending on their sphere.

Scrimgeour watched in silence as one by one, more people appeared in the room. This time, he recognized them: Professor Dumbledore, Barnabus Cuffe, Percy Weasley, Mr. Ollivander, Madam Rosmerta, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Madam Puddifoot, and the man that Scrimgeour vaguely recognized as the bartender of the Hog’s Head Inn.

“Ah, much better,” King Erevan said before anyone could say anything. “Welcome all to the Kingdom of Atlantis. I am King Erevan Rivarendell and now if you will all please follow my lovely wife, Queen Calliara, and I, we shall take you all on a tour of Atlantis to prove that it does, in fact, still exist.”

* * *

To be continued.


	28. The War Hits Close to Home, Part Two

Harry Potter and the Return of the Heirs  
By J.C. Vascardi

* * *  
Chapter Twenty-Seven:  
The War Hits Close to Home, Part Two  
* * *

Exiting the throne room, King Erevan and Queen Calliara led their ‘guests’ into the entry hall of the palace. Everywhere a person looked the trappings of royalty and immense wealth could be seen. From the fifty-foot high vaulted ceilings, to the intricate black and white marble floor. Three of the walls were made of white marble and were capped with intricate crown moldings made of solid gold. The fourth wall was dominated by a large mural that depicted the Olympian pantheon, each god and goddess painted in vibrant colors, with Patron Deity of Atlantis, Poseidon, and his wife, Amphitrite, at the center.

Looking around the room, Rufus grunted and said, “I do hope that you have more to show us. So far, you’ve only proved that you’re insanely wealthy.”

Queen Calliara turned to Rufus and said, “Patience please, Minister. We only just left the throne room. Of course we have more to show you.”

“This had better be good, madam,” Rufus said. “Not that I think for a second anything you can show me will convince me. The experts that the _Daily Prophet_ quoted are all good friends of mine. Many of them have been studying Atlantis for over fifty years. If they say it doesn’t exist any longer then it really doesn’t.”

“Minister,” King Erevan said, “do you make it a point to believe everything you hear from your so-called experts? If an expert about Mount Everest claimed nobody has ever died trying to climb it, would you believe them? Or perhaps better yet, if an expert told you that Dementors were a completely safe creature and that every wizarding household in Britain should have one as a pet, would you believe them?”

“I will thank you not to insult my intelligence,” Rufus said. “Of course I wouldn’t believe those experts, because in both cases it’s well documented that their claims are false. I believe the experts the _Prophet_ quoted, however, because I’ve known them all my life and it is also very well documented that Atlantis sank thousands of years ago.”

“I can’t take anymore of this,” Queen Calliara said. “Your skepticism is annoying me to no end, Minister. I do not enjoy having someone come into my home and saying that I’m crazy to believe something I know to be true. Erevan and I were going to take you all on the grand tour of the city, but if this is the attitude you’re going to have for the entire trip, I can’t take it. Therefore, I think we’re just going to skip to the end of the tour. Corelian?”

Corelian nodded and within seconds, he and the other members of the Circle were chanting again. The King, Queen, and their guests soon disappeared from the room in a puff of smoke.

* * *

“Ah, ah, okay, ow, OW!”

Aarik knew he shouldn’t, but he just couldn’t help but laugh. He knew that Draco had a low threshold for pain, but it was just plain silly for him to be reacting this way over such a minor thing as a broken toe.

“Oh, yeah thanks a lot. I’m here with a broken toe, I’m dying here and you’re laughing,” Draco whined.

“I don’t think a broken toe is going to kill you, Mr. Malfoy,” Madam Pomfrey said, as she finished examining his toe and walked over to gather the potions she needed to give her patient.

“You have not had a broken toe, obviously,” Draco said, “because this has got to be as painful as childbirth.”

“Don’t say that to a woman in labor,” Madam Pomfrey advised. “She’s liable to get up and kill you.”

“Point noted,” drawled Draco, before muttering, “but at least she’ll be able to walk the next day.”

Aarik laughed and said, “Draco, please, its’ not that bad. A broken toe is nothing compared to the Cruciatus and we both know it. As for being able to walk the next day, we’re wizards in case you forgot. I’m sure Madam Pomfrey will have you all fixed up in no time and you’ll have no problems walking tomorrow.”

“You’re my boyfriend,” Draco said as he looked at Aarik. “You’re supposed to comfort me in my time of need.” At that moment, Madam Pomfrey placed the tip of her wand on Draco’s toe and prepared to cast the charm to heal it, causing Draco to flinch and exclaim, “OW!”

“Mr. Malfoy, will you please grow up and act your age?” Madam Pomfrey said. “Honestly, all of this carrying on about a broken toe! If you don’t stop it right now, I’ll just leave your toe broken and you really won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

Aarik looked first at Draco, then at Madam Pomfrey, before looking back at Draco and then sealing the blond into a passionate kiss. Madam Pomfrey smiled, happy that her patient was distracted and thought, ‘Note to self: when Mr. Malfoy needs medical attention - ask Mr. Potter to distract him. Saves the headache of listening to Mr. Malfoy’s childish moaning.’

Madam Pomfrey cast the spell to heal Draco’s toe and then gave the young couple a few seconds longer to snog one another, before she cleared her throat. Aarik and Draco pulled away from each other and Madam Pomfrey said, “Your toe is healed, Mr. Malfoy. Do try to be more careful next time.”

Before Draco could say anything, Matthew walked into the Hospital Wing. “Professor Dumbledore just saw Oliver and I, in a,” pausing to clear his throat and blush slightly, “compromising position. So, Draco, would you be kind enough to explain why you’re in the Hospital Wing?”

“Draco was attacked during the Quidditch game today,” Aarik answered. “The word is out that Draco and I are together and I guess some of his teammates don’t like that very much. Crabbe and Goyle both hit Bludgers at Draco. He got out of the way fast enough to miss the one from Goyle, but Crabbe’s grazed his foot and broke his toe.”

“Why would Professor Dumbledore tell you about my injury?” Draco asked.

“Its standard procedure when a student is injured,” Madam Pomfrey said before Matt could answer, “for the Headmaster to inform their parents or legal guardian.”

“Legal guardian?” Draco asked, as he looked between Matt and Madam Pomfrey, obviously confused. “I thought your father was my legal guardian?”

“He was,” Matthew said, as he walked over and sat down in a chair next to Draco’s bed. “He died in Inverness.”

“Oh my Gods,” Aarik said. “Matt, I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks,” Matt said. “I just found out last night. I’m still in shock to be honest. Anyway, Draco, with father dead, I’m your last living relative over 17 who isn’t a Death Eater. So, the Ministry had me come in and sign the papers this morning. Until you turn 17, I’m officially your legal guardian.”

“My condolences on your loss, Matt,” Draco said. “I didn’t know your father very well, but from what I saw, he was an infinitely better father than my own. What about Ryan? Wasn’t your father his guardian, too?”

“Yeah,” Matt answered. “Corelian is working on getting himself named guardian. Unfortunately, he’s run into a bit of a problem.”

“What happened?” Aarik asked.

“Well, the Minister thinks Corelian is crazy to think that Atlantis still exists,” Matthew explained. “I ran into Asheera on the way over here. I don’t know if Ryan told you, but when Atlanteans get married, they can opt to wear a pair of earrings that grant them the ability to sense each other’s emotions and talk to one another telepathically. Well, Corelian and Asheera have those earrings and she told me that Corelian has not only kidnapped the Minister and taken him to Atlantis, he’s also called the Circle to the palace and had them kidnap eight more people to help convince the populace of Britain that Atlantis really does still exist.”

“Corelian actually kidnapped the Minister?” Madam Pomfrey asked. “That certainly takes guts.”

“Yeah, it does,” confirmed Matt. “I guess King Erevan and Queen Calliara are going to personally give them the grand tour of the kingdom.”

“Oh I wish I could be there to see the look on Scrimgeour’s face when he’s forced to eat crow,” Draco said. “From what I’ve heard, he doesn’t like surprises or being wrong. I’m sure he’ll be more then a little peeved to find out he was wrong.”

“Did someone say my name?” a voice asked, as Peeves came into view.

Madame Pomfrey was quickly on her feet; her wand pointed at the poltergeist, she said, “Peeves! How dare you enter my hospital! Get out!”

“Peeves will go when he wants to,” the poltergeist said in a mocking tone.

“I’m warning you, Peeves!” Madam Pomfrey exclaimed. “Get out before I call the Headmaster!”

“You don’t scare me, nursey nurse,” Peeves said. “His Headship is one of the people that pointy eared fraud kidnapped, so, ha, ha.”

Madam Pomfrey screamed in frustration, before she pointed her wand at her throat, said, “Sonorus!” and then yelled loud enough to be heard throughout the castle, “Will someone please come to the hospital wing and get rid of Peeves?”

A couple minutes later, the Bloody Baron appeared in the room. Peeves gulped and said, “Hello, Your Bloodiness.”

The Bloody Baron remained silent as always. He drew his sword and pointed it at Peeves’ throat, causing the poltergeist to scream like a little girl before he flew out of the room.

“Thank you, Baron,” Madame Pomfrey said. It wasn’t quite as loud as a moment ago, but her voice was still amplified enough that it would be heard a fair distance away from the hospital wing and anyone who might be on their way to help with Peeves, would now know that the situation had been handled.

The Bloody Baron nodded at the nurse, before he sailed out of the room after Peeves, whose screams of fright could be heard getting ever softer as he tried to flee the Slytherin ghost.

“If ever there was a reason to call in an exorcist,” Madam Pomfrey said after mumbling, “Quietus,” and putting her wand away, “Peeves is it.”

Matthew, Draco, and Aarik nodded in agreement.

* * *

Adrian Pucey was furious. He couldn’t believe that a member of his team would attack a fellow teammate. He knew that some of his housemates were angry with Draco for dating Aarik Potter, but that was no excuse. In the time since Adrian had taken over as Captain of the Slytherin team, he’d hoped that he’d succeeded in his attempt to instill a sense of good sportsmanship in his players. It had obviously not worked because Adrian didn’t consider one teammate attacking another to be an example of good sportsmanship.

Of course, what was worse was the fact that more than one player attacked Draco. Yes, Draco managed to get out of the way before the Bludger that Goyle hit could hit him. Crabbe’s poorly aimed Bludger only grazed Draco’s foot and didn’t do any serious damage. Nevertheless, the fact that either of them had hit Bludgers at a teammate was bad enough in Adrian’s mind, whether they actually hit their intended target or not.

Storming into the Slytherin common room, Adrian marched over to where Crabbe and Goyle were sitting and yelled, “What the bloody hell do you buffoons think you were doing?”

Crabbe and Goyle remained silent, staring dumbly at Adrian, as if they hadn’t heard his question.

“Easy Adrian,” said the voice of seventh year Slytherin Chaser Damien Urquhart. “There’s no need to yell at Vince and Greg.”

“No need?” Adrian asked as he turned on his fellow Chaser. “You were at the game today! You saw what happened and you’re saying there’s no need?”

“Malfoy had it coming to him,” Damien answered.

“Damien is right, Adrian,” said Michael Vaisey, a seventh year and the third Chaser on the Slytherin team. “Malfoy deserves everything that’s coming to him for dating Potter.”

Adrian was at a loss for words. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I can’t believe you two actually think that. Who Draco decides to date is his business and he doesn’t deserve to get hurt because of it.”

“Yes he does, Adrian,” Michael said. “Malfoy is a disgrace to this house. He’s dating a Gryffindor and not just any Gryffindor, but the bloody Heir of Gryffindor!”

“Not to mention the fact that he’s also The-Boy-Who-Refused-to-Die-Like-He-Was-Supposed-To,” Damien added.

Adrian looked at Crabbe and Goyle, looking as stupid and clueless as they always did, and it was then that he realized something. Looking at Damien and Michael, his glare accusing, he said, “You know, half the time I’m surprised that Crabbe and Goyle are smart enough to use their bats to hit the Bludgers instead of their own heads. They couldn’t possibly have come up with this idea to attack Draco all by themselves. Did you two have something to do with this?”

“You caught on I see,” Michael said, a sardonic grin on his face.

“I was wondering how long it would take,” Damien added.

“You admit it, then?” Adrian asked. “You admit that you put Crabbe and Goyle up to attacking Draco? What’d you do? Promise them your desserts for the next month?”

“Next two months, actually,” Damien answered, “but that was a small sacrifice. Goyle’s Bludger wasn’t even meant for Malfoy though. He was supposed to hit Potter, but I guess he got confused and hit it at Malfoy instead.”

“Yeah, that must be it,” Michael said. “It’s really the one disadvantage to having a pair of lumbering oafs doing one’s dirty work.”

Despite the fact that they were being insulted, Crabbe and Goyle just sat there silently, watching the exchange. They either had no self-confidence to speak of, or they really did, as many people suspected, have the combined brain power of a slug.

“Well, then, Michael, Damien, you leave me no choice,” Adrian said. “Since it’s obvious that nothing I’ve said about teamwork and good sportsmanship has registered with you, you’re both off the team! So are you two,” Adrian said as he pointed at Crabbe and Goyle. “I refuse to have players on my team who think its okay to attack their teammates.”

“Mr. Pucey,” said an oily voice that sent chills down many students’ backs. “You do not have the authority to kick them off the team.”

Turning to Professor Snape, Adrian said, “I’m the Captain.”

“I realize that, Mr. Pucey,” Snape drawled. “However, I am a professor, as well as your Head of House. In this house, what I say goes, and I say that you will not be kicking them off the team. They’re four of Slytherin’s best players. Getting rid of them will kill Slytherin’s chances of winning the Quidditch Cup back from Gryffindor.”

“Professor, you do know what they did, right?” Adrian asked.

“Yes, I do,” replied Snape. He was angry that they had planned to attack his godson, but it was not common knowledge among the students that Draco was his godson and he wanted to keep it that way. Draco was not seriously hurt, so he saw no reason to punish his house and eliminate their chances of winning the Quidditch Cup. “They will each serve detention with me every night for the rest of the week. I think that is enough punishment.”

“I disagree,” said a voice from behind Snape. Turning around, Snape saw Salazar Slytherin standing in the landscape over the common room fireplace. “I agree with Mr. Pucey.”

“Salazar with all due respect,” Snape said, “I am the Head of Slytherin House, so will you please leave decisions effecting it up to me?”

Salazar remained quiet for a moment, as he contemplated Snape’s words, and then said, “Sorry, Severus, but I am disinclined to acquiesce to your request. You may be the current Head of Slytherin House, but I am the Founder of Slytherin House and I’m overruling you. If you don’t like it, you’re free to take it up with the Headmaster, but it won’t change anything. Mr. Pucey, you have my permission to schedule tryouts to replace Misters Vaisey, Urquhart, Crabbe, and Goyle at your earliest convenience.”

“Thank you, Salazar,” Adrian said, careful to keep the smugness that he was feeling from showing on his face.

Professor Snape was obviously not happy and he stalked out of the common room, as Vaisey and Urquhart shot death glares at Adrian. Crabbe and Goyle were looking just as clueless as they usually did.

“Well, you heard Salazar,” Adrian said. “Michael, Damien, Vincent, Gregory, you’re off the team. I expect you to turn in your brooms and uniforms by the end of the day.”

“You can’t take our brooms!” Michael exclaimed.

“On the contrary, Michael, I can,” Adrian said. “You’re using one of the Nimbus 2001’s gifted to the Slytherin team. You’re no longer on the team; therefore, you cannot continue using one of the teams’ brooms.”

Michael stared angrily at Adrian for a minute longer before he stalked off. Damien scowled darkly and said, “Watch your back, Pucey.”

“Watch who you’re threatening, Damien,” Adrian said. “Don’t forget. I’m Head Boy, so, it’s not wise to threaten me.”

Damien didn’t say anything and just walked away. Adrian wasn’t stupid enough though not to know that he needed to watch his back, regardless.

* * *

Once the smoke cleared, King Erevan, Queen Calliara, and their guests, in addition to Corelian and the rest of the Circle, were standing in the middle of an elaborate room. In the center of the room, an enormous glass-walled lift, easily big enough to comfortably hold a hundred people could be seen. Through the walls of the lift, plush red velvet seats were visible.

Walking over to the lift, King Erevan pressed a button and the doors opened. Gesturing towards it, he said, “If everyone would please step in and take a seat?”

“What nonsense is this?” Scrimgeour asked. “You call a glass lift proof?”

“Minister, I’ve taken all I’m going to take of your mouth,” King Erevan said as he waved his hand in front of Scrimgeour’s mouth and muttered an incantation under his breath.

When Scrimgeour next spoke, his lips moved, but no sound came out. He was obviously not very happy to have been silenced.

“Calm down, Rufus,” Dumbledore said. “I’m sure our gracious hosts will provide ample proof of their country’s existence. So, please just step into the lift as asked and give them a chance.”

Rufus crossed his arms in front of his chest in protest before he stepped into the lift and sat down. Once everyone else was seated, King Erevan stepped into the lift, pressed a button to close the door and took a seat himself. Reaching over to the control panel, King Erevan pushed another button and the sound of gears moving could be heard, followed shortly after by the sound of gushing water.

Madam Puddifoot screamed as she looked up and noticed a huge amount of water cascading downward from an opening in the roof of the room outside the lift.

“Don’t worry, Madam,” Queen Calliara said in a soothing voice. “This lift is water-tight.”

“Where is all that water coming from?” asked Madam Rosmerta.

“The Atlantic Ocean, of course,” Corelian answered in a tone that suggested the answer to the question should have been obvious.

“We’re in the Royal Observatory,” King Erevan said. “At the moment, you can’t see much of anything, as the room outside of the lift needs to finish filling up with the ocean water before we can begin our journey. We tried once to make the lift go up while the water was still pouring in through the opening in the roof and it didn’t go so well. The lift broke and it took us a month to get it fixed. Anyway, I assure you, it’s perfectly safe now.”

Waiting a few more moments, the sound of gushing water diminished and soon stopped all together. It was obvious that the room outside the lift was now holding as much of the ocean water as it would hold.

“Ah, we’re ready for our ascent now,” King Erevan said.

“You mean?” Barnabus Cuffe asked.

“Yes, Mr. Cuffe,” King Erevan said, as he pointed up with a smile. “We’re going up and out. What better way to prove that Atlantis exists then to show it to you from above the city? Would you care to do the honors, Mr. Weasley?” King Erevan asked with a smile to Percy, as he pointed at a large lever in the middle of the floor.

Percy pushed the lever and soon the sound of gears grinding into action could be heard. The lift jolted upward a bit and then settled into a leisurely speed as it climbed higher and higher.

Everyone was looking around at the room and soon Kingsley Shacklebolt asked, “How do you keep all of the sea life out of here when all that water comes cascading in?”

“A magic filter,” Queen Calliara answered. “It allows only the water and this lift to pass through it. Prepare for a breathtaking sight. We’re almost there.”

Sure enough, within moments, the lift had reached the height of the ceiling and was soon moving through the hole in the center of it. The lift continued it’s ascent on invisible tracks and many gasps of awe could be heard as the lift gained height.

Through the glass walls and floor of the lift, abundant sea life could be seen swimming through the waters, but perhaps, most breathtaking of all was the view of Atlantis itself. Spread out on the ocean floor, going on for miles in every direction, a vast city could be seen, housed safely in what looked like large glass domes. Upon closer inspection, however, one could see that they were not glass domes but a shimmering field of energy.

“You are now looking at the City of Atlantia,” King Erevan said. “Also known as the Jewel of Atlantis. The city is, by far, the largest with a population of just under ninety million souls. It is impossible to see the entire continent from this vantage point, but, I should hope that it isn’t necessary. As you can clearly see, there is a thriving city beneath your feet, completely underwater, protected by the ancient shields created by Poseidon himself.”

“How big is the continent?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

“Volcanoes on the northernmost border of Atlantis were responsible for the creation of both Iceland and the island that Azkaban rests upon,” Queen Calliara answered. “As for our southernmost border, many of the islands in the Atlantic Ocean also owe their existence to Atlantean volcanoes. At any rate, our southernmost border stretches as far south as the Falkland Islands.”

“That’s certainly much larger then what the ancient Greeks believed,” Mr. Ollivander noted.

“Yes, it is,” King Erevan agreed. “Of course, is that really surprising considering that Atlantis had already been at the bottom of the ocean for several millennia when the ancient Greek tales about Atlantis were written? The stories were based in fact, but they were told only by word of mouth until Plato first wrote them down around 360 BC. As I’m sure you know, oral history can at times be unreliable, because overtime the truth becomes harder to find, as the various tellers of the tale add and omit details.”

“Now, it should be noted,” Queen Calliara said, “that Atlantis is not a single land mass. The largest part of Atlantis is in the center of the Atlantic Ocean, but we also have several islands.”

“As for Plato’s account of Atlantis,” King Erevan said, “about the only things he got right were the approximate time that the kingdom sank and the fact that we had a strong navy. We never conquered anyone nor did we try. Shortly after the founding of Atlantis, my ancestors signed a sacred pact with the Olympians called the Symphonia Ithikos, which stated that, none of the Olympians would ever step foot on Atlantis in anger in exchange for us not fighting anyone except in self-defense. We Atlanteans are scholars who strive to further the study of magic as far it can possibly go. We are more then capable of defending ourselves if the need arises, but we would never attack any other country or group without being attacked first.”

“Does that mean that Atlantis will be unable to help Britain in the war with You-Know-Who?” Madam Rosmerta asked.

“That’s a difficult question, Madam,” King Erevan said. “You see, I believe that Voldemort is unlikely to stop with just Britain. I’m sure that if he succeeds in taking over it, he will turn his attention to other countries and eventually he’ll try to target Atlantis, as well. Unfortunately, the Symphonia Ithikos clearly states that Atlantis cannot attack anyone unless we’re attacked first. The definition of an attack would be Voldemort leading a raid on Atlantean soil. It is unfortunately, very clear, that the attack must happen on Atlantean soil, so even if an Atlantean citizen were attacked in Britain, my hands would be tied. The Olympians have not set foot on Earth in thousands of years, but I am not about to break a sacred pact with them.”

“So you would allow thousands of innocent British citizens to die by Voldemort’s forces rather than breaking some ancient promise with forces that haven’t been seen nor heard from in thousands of years?” Madam Puddifoot asked.

King Erevan remained silent for a moment, before answering. “Not by choice, madam. If there was anything I could do, I’d do it in a heartbeat. I have no quarrel with Britain and I do not believe they deserve to die. However, when Poseidon sank Atlantis and created the shields, Zeus declared an amendment to the pact stating that if we broke it, our punishment would be the failure of Poseidon’s shields. Zeus laid his own magic into the shields upon their creation, so that even if he was no longer involved in Earthly affairs, the shields will automatically fail if Atlantis breaks the pact. So, while my heart aches for the loss of any British lives, I must consider the lives of my own people. With the shields gone, the waters of the Atlantic would crash down upon Atlantis destroying everything we’ve built and that would mean the deaths of nearly ten billion more innocent people.”

“Is there no way to get around the pact?” Professor Dumbledore asked. “I think the recent battle in Inverness proves that Britain needs all the help it can get in this war against Voldemort.”

“None that I know of,” King Erevan answered. “The problem is that it would be impossible for Voldemort to attack any Atlantean soil contained within Poseidon’s shields. After Zeus had laid his own magic into them, Poseidon secretly laid another layer of magic into the shields which would cause them to not only protect Atlantis from the waters of the Atlantic, but would also prevent anyone with hostile intent from passing through them.”

Silence ensued for several minutes, until it was finally broken by Percy Weasley. “What if Atlantis was to acquire more territory outside of the shields?”

Queen Calliara cocked her head to one side, before responding. “That is an interesting thought, Mr. Weasley. If there was Atlantean soil outside of the shields and Voldemort led an attack there then we would be empowered to commit forces in the battle against him without breaking the pact. If Britain were to agree to place even a small parcel of land under Atlantean jurisdiction, then it could work. I don’t see that happening though.”

Minister Scrimgeour chose this moment to speak for the first time, not that he had much choice in the matter, as he had only seconds earlier felt the King’s silencing charm wear off. Not that he would have been very talkative anyway as he had been busy sulking, because he did not enjoy being proved wrong. However, he had been listening to the conversation and while he would never admit it aloud, he did agree with Dumbledore. The attack on Inverness had proven to him how serious the Voldemort threat was and he now realized that Britain would need all the help it could get. “It’s a fairly simple matter. I’m the British Minister of Magic; I can easily sign a small parcel of land over so that it falls under Atlantean dominion.”

“Wait, does that mean you’re willing to accept that Atlantis actually exists?” Queen Calliara said, who was not about to let the subject drop without a verbal confirmation from Scrimgeour. “You’ll accept that Corelian is the Atlantean Ambassador to Britain and Ireland and drop these ideas of yours to send him to Azkaban?”

The look in the Minister’s face made it clear that he did not like being forced to admit that he was wrong aloud. The look on the Queen’s face, however, made it clear to him that he wasn’t going to get away without admitting it, so he said, “Yes, Your Majesty, I’m willing to accept that Atlantis still exists. I can’t very well deny the fact when I can see the proof with my own eyes. As for Mr. Laitannen, consider the charges against him dropped and upon our return to the Ministry, I shall order that his wand be returned to him post haste.”

“Thank you, Minister Scrimgeour,” Queen Calliara said with the sweet smile of victory on her face.

“Unfortunately, Minister, your authority isn’t enough in this matter,” King Erevan said. “For such a plan to work, I’m afraid the Muggle government would have to sign off on it as well and I imagine that convincing the Queen of England to place any part of her domain, no matter how small, under the dominion of another country is going to be a tough, if not impossible, sell.”

“Yes, that does complicate matters,” Scrimgeour said. “Barnabus, this is strictly off the record, but I have talked with the British Prime Minister, as has every Minister of Magic since Grindenwald’s death. However, we have never made contact with the rest of the government and I am certain that the Prime Minister has never told anyone else about our conversations, because we’ve never given him any form of tangible proof that he’d be able to pass on to other members of his government. Without it, I’m sure they’d think him crazy to think that witches and wizards exist or that they have a government that operates entirely independently of Muggle Britain’s authority.”

King Erevan nodded and said, “I suppose providing that proof to the rest of their government would be out of the question?”

“Yes,” Scrimgeour said immediately. “If the Muggles knew about our society, they’d probably hunt us down and kill all of us, just as they tried to do so many years ago during the witch hunts. Barring that, they’d probably expect us to agree to be under their jurisdiction, obey their laws, pay their taxes, and that is simply not something that I can allow to happen.”

“I can certainly understand that, Minister,” King Erevan said. “Atlantis has been under the control of the House of Rivarendell since the founding of the kingdom and I would not want to be remembered as the King who placed the welfare of my people in the hands of Muggles. It does mean, however, no matter how much I may wish otherwise, that I will be unable to commit any Atlantean forces to help you against Voldemort. The Kingdom of Atlantis has no choice but to remain neutral in the war. Now, let us return to the palace and from there the Circle can send all of you back to your homes.”

* * *

To be continued.


	29. The War Hits Close to Home, Part Three

Harry Potter and the Return of the Heirs  
By J.C. Vascardi

* * *  
Chapter Twenty-Seven:  
The War Hits Close to Home, Part Three  
* * *

On Friday, November Sixteenth, Colin looked at his watch and breathed a sigh of relief. Transfiguration class was almost over. True, each class ending brought him that much closer to his nightly detention, but Colin really didn’t mind because of all his subjects, he found Transfiguration to be his worst. He was sure that he’d fail to get an OWL in the subject, but since that meant being able to drop it next year, he certainly wasn’t about to complain.

Shortly after the bell rang to signal the end of the period, Professor McGonagall said, “Class dismissed. Creevey you will stay after class for a moment.”

Colin sighed and gathered his belongings before going up to McGonagall’s desk instead of leaving with his housemates. For several minutes, McGonagall didn’t say anything and Colin was about to ask her what she wanted when she spoke, “I’ll be unable to sit your detention tonight. You should report to Professor Flitwick instead.”

Colin nodded and asked, “Do I need to tell the others?” referring, of course, to all the other members of his now disbanded Photography Club, who had helped sell information and photographs to the Daily Prophet.

“No,” McGonagall said. “They’ll all get an owl about it, before tonight.”

Colin nodded and turned to leave. He was about two feet from McGonagall’s desk when she called out, “Creevey? You might want this.”

Turning he saw that McGonagall was holding out a scrap of parchment. Coming back and taking the parchment from her hand, Colin looked at it for a second and realized it was a quick note from McGonagall to excuse him from being late to his next class. Colin again nodded to McGonagall and headed for Defense against the Dark Arts.

‘Like this note is going to matter,’ Colin thought on the way. ‘Snape isn’t going to care that McGonagall kept me after class. He’ll still find something to punish me for, I’m sure.’

Sure enough, when Colin arrived in Snape’s classroom, three minutes late, Professor Snape said, “I thought I had impressed upon all of you the importance of arriving in my class on time. You’re late, Mr. Creevey: 10 points from Gryffindor.”

“Professor McGonagall kept me after class,” Colin objected. “She gave me a note.”

Snape grabbed the note, perused it, and said, “Fine, sit down. The point deduction shall stand, for speaking without permission. Now take out your textbook and turn to page 109, quietly.”

* * *

On Saturday morning, the Seventeenth of November, students coming into the entry hall immediately saw a few big differences. Under the large house point hourglasses there were now four life size portraits of the Founders. Of course, that wasn’t the only thing causing murmurs among the students, for there was also a bright green flyer tacked up on the message board.

It read:

Slytherin Quidditch Team Try-Outs

The Slytherin team is looking for two new Beaters and two new Chasers.

All second year and above Slytherin students are welcome to try out. That includes the girls – which I mention only because it’s been a long overdue for a change tradition in the past that only male Slytherins were chosen for the team. I promise that all who try out will be given a fair shot.

Also, I would like to impress upon you that you must have a sense of good sportsmanship to be chosen for the team. Nobody who thinks that former Slytherin team members Urquhart, Vaisey, Crabbe and Goyle were justified in attacking team member Draco Malfoy because of who he chooses to date is welcome to tryout.

Try-outs are at noon today on the Quidditch Pitch.

Thank you,  
Adrian Pucey  
Head Boy and Captain of the Slytherin Team

As they read the announcement, many Slytherin students got angry, because they totally supported the former members’ action against Draco and couldn’t believe that Adrian didn’t. How could any proper thinking wizard not support it? Draco was a traitor. He was dating the enemy.

Adrian walked into the entry hall and was immediately assaulted by a barrage of insults from his housemates, before Vaisey pushed his way to the fore and shouted, “Pucey, you traitor!”

“I’m not the traitor here, Vaisey,” Adrian said.

“Yes you are!” Vaisey exclaimed. “Bloody Hell, Pucey, are you really that stupid? I’m not the traitor here, you are, and so is everyone else who fights against the Dark Lord. He is the only chance of survival the Wizarding world has. All the people who support diluting the purity of Wizarding blood need to be stopped and the Dark Lord is the best chance of success.”

“Success?” Adrian asked. “You call torturing and murdering hundreds of innocent people to be a successful route to anything? The end does not justify the means, Vaisey, and even then I do not believe for a second that the Wizarding world would be better off by keeping all the bloodlines pure. Actually, I think it’s causing more problems than its solving.”

“You’re so stupid, Pucey,” Urquhart piped up. “Weakening the purity of Wizarding blood is akin to driving the Wizarding race into extinction.”

“It won’t be weakening blood purity that drives us into extinction,” Adrian countered. “It will be the weakening of the brain that’ll do that. And many of the old pureblood families are well on their way to ensuring that the Wizarding race dies out. Look at Crabbe and Goyle for Merlin’s sake! They’re both purebloods, but their families are so inbred that they barely have the intelligence to lift their own wands, let alone cast a spell of any potency. Crabbe and Goyle aren’t the only results of gross inbreeding in Slytherin house either, in fact, I can think of one example that’s even worse.”

“Don’t you fucking dare, Pucey!” Theodore Nott shouted as he pushed his way to the front, his wand pointed at Adrian. “It’s time you learned some respect! Crucio!”

Adrian was soon writhing on the ground in pain, screaming, as the bone-melting pain of the Cruciatus Curse coursed through his body. It was the first time he had ever felt the curse and it only served to reinforce his resolve to never use it on another living thing as long as he lived.

The screams drew the attention of Professor Dumbledore, who ran into the room and seeing what was happening shouted, “Finite Incantatem!” pointing at Adrian, and “Expelliarmus!” at Nott. Nott’s wand flew out of his hand and into Professor Dumbledore’s. There was no trace of the normally jovial headmaster, only cold fury and many of the students backed away from the old man, completely terrified.

“Mr. Nott you dare cast an Unforgivable in this school?” he shouted, as he pointed his wand at Nott and said, “Incarcerous!” “You’ve just earned your immediate expulsion and a one-way ticket to Azkaban!”

Several of the other professors were now standing behind Dumbledore, with their wands drawn, sending a clear message to all of the gathered students that it would be extremely unwise to do anything against the rules. Before Dumbledore or anyone else could say anything, Salazar spoke up.

“I applaud you on expelling Mr. Nott, Albus,” Salazar said, “but that is simply not enough. It’s abhorrent and completely unacceptable to me that a member of my house would use the Cruciatus Curse against anyone, let alone one of their housemates! So, Slytherins you have Mr. Nott to thank for this,” at this point Salazar yelled so loud that the people in Hogsmeade could probably hear him, “1000 POINTS FROM SLYTHERIN!”

Several of the Slytherins looked at Salazar’s portrait, shocked, and finally Vaisey spoke up, this time addressing the portrait, “You crazy old fool! You’re just a portrait, you can’t take points!”

“Oh really, Mr. Vaisey?” Salazar asked. “Watch the hourglass.”

All eyes rose to look at the Slytherin hourglass. Under each hourglass, a magically charmed scrap of parchment showed the points total and it automatically updated the total every time points were given or taken. The parchment soon went from saying 147 to -853, as all the emeralds dropped out of the top half of the hourglass.

At this point, Salazar spoke again, “As you can see, Mr. Vaisey, I can take points, despite the fact that I’m only a portrait. Did you forget that I’m one of the Founders of this school? Who do you think it is who charmed those hourglasses, Mr. Vaisey? Helga, Rowena, Godric, and I did and while we might be dead and mere portraits now, the hourglasses were charmed to recognize our voices and they will respond to us even now. Of course, for any of you clever enough to think you might be able to use a spell to disguise your voice and make it sound like a Professor’s voice in order to give your house points, know that the magic of the hourglasses will not be fooled by any such spell.”

Pausing for a moment, Salazar then said, “Now, I’ve been observing in silence for awhile now, as I wanted to see for myself the full extent of the corruption of my name. There is absolutely no truth to all of the bloody purity crap that you’re all so intent on believing. Despite what the Sorting Hat may have led you to believe, I did not hate Muggle-borns or Half-bloods, and I must certainly never thought that only Purebloods were worthy of studying magic. All of the ideals that Voldemort and his followers support are the creation of Godric Gryffindor!”

A murmur of disbelief rippled through the students in the hall and a few Gryffindors shouted that Salazar was lying. Shouting to be heard over the commotion, however, Godric soon spoke up, “I thank you Gryffindors for trying to protect me, but Salazar is telling the truth.” The protests died at this point and silence filled the hall, as Godric lowered his voice and continued, “In life, Salazar and I were once very close. In fact, we were married and had a child together, Alaric Slytherin-Gryffindor. Unfortunately, during a private potions lesson, Alaric disobeyed Salazar and combined phoenix tears with dragon’s blood. The resulting explosion killed Alaric and it was then that my love for Salazar turned to a bitter hatred that spawned the Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry that still exists to this day.

“I wanted everyone else to hate Salazar as much as I did, so after I was the only Founder still alive, I charmed the Sorting Hat to forget what Salazar was really like in life and made it lie about him. Everything you’ve ever heard about Salazar hating Muggles, Muggle-borns, Half-bloods, and thinking that only Purebloods were worthy of studying magic is an out and out lie created by me in my anger over the death of our nine-year-old son. I regret my actions now, as I can see how much strife they have caused. There is absolutely no reason for any of you to think that you must maintain a pure bloodline by marrying only Purebloods. Half-bloods and Muggle-borns are both viable options, who will not dilute the magical ability of your offspring one bit.”

“That’s a lie!” Pansy Parkinson shouted.

“Miss Parkinson, is it?” Rowena asked from her frame and Pansy nodded. “What reason could we possibly have to lie? We were the four greatest and most powerful wizards and witches of our age. Do you honestly think that if we say something is so, it isn’t? I assure you that there truly is no difference between Muggle-borns, Half-Bloods, and Purebloods. For example, look at Miss Hermione Granger from Gryffindor, she is a Muggle-born, but she is also the best student in this school and I don’t doubt for a minute that she is very powerful. But, perhaps, it might be a good idea to see just what your various power levels are. Salazar, didn’t you create a potion for determining power levels?”

“Yes, Rowena, I did,” Salazar confirmed. “It’s one of my secret recipes. When it is drunk, it will cause the imbiber to be surrounded by an aura. The color of the aura depends on how powerful the person is. A green aura means they are among the most powerful witches and wizards alive, while a red aura means that they are among the weakest. And yes, I created the potion during the years following Godric’s and my divorce, so the colors are not a coincidence. I’ll have Nick translate the recipe and give Professor Weasley a copy of it so that it can be brewed in class at his earliest convenience. It’s a simple potion – even the first years should be able to handle it.”

“Translate?” Vaisey asked a clear note of suspicion in his voice. “Why does Delaney have to translate the recipe?”

“Because like all my secret recipes, Mr. Vaisey,” Salazar said, “it is written in Parseltongue. So, other than myself, there are only three people in this castle who can read the recipe. My living heir, Nick Delaney, my son Alaric’s ghost, and Harry Potter,” Salazar intentionally left out Tom Riddle, since he was calling himself Tom Byrne and not acknowledging his connection to Salazar for his own safety. “And before you ask, Mr. Vaisey, no, I cannot translate the recipe myself. Being a portrait does cause certain limitations and reading things from a book that isn’t in my portrait with me is one of them.”

“I’ll gladly add the potion to the schedule,” Bill said. “Unfortunately, it’ll have to wait until after winter break, because my lesson plans for the rest of the term have already been finalized and every available class period for all seven years will be needed to work on those potions. I’d simply move one of the easier ones to next term, but I just finished writing the end of term exams for all the years and I really don’t want to rewrite them.”

“Fair enough, Professor Weasley,” Salazar said. “When the time comes, I’ll make sure you have the recipe.”

“All right everyone, disperse,” Dumbledore said, as Dumbledore and McGonagall escorted the bound Theodore Nott to Dumbledore’s office to call the Aurors and set his expulsion in motion.

The gathered students all began to file out of the entry hall and began to go back to what they were doing.

At noon, Adrian walked out onto the pitch to see who had all come to tryout for the team. For some reason, he really wasn’t the least bit surprised by the low turnout. Of the roughly 200 second-year and older Slytherins, only 10 showed up to tryout. Scanning over them, Adrian quickly noticed first year Lane Waters among the hopefuls.

Adrian was just about to tell Lane that he wasn’t old enough to try out when seventh-year Slytherin Miles Bletchley, the Slytherin Keeper, walked out onto the pitch carrying his uniform and the Nimbus 2001 that had been issued to him. Throwing them down at Adrian’s feet, Miles said, “I quit the team.”

Before Adrian could even say a word to him, Miles turned on his heel and marched off the field. Adrian took a moment to recover and then said, “Okay, it looks like we’ll be needing a new Keeper, too,” then turning to Lane he said, “I’m sorry Mr. Waters, but you need to be at least a second-year to tryout for the Quidditch team.”

Lane Waters looked at Adrian with a pleading look, “I know, but can I at least try? Harry Potter joined the Gryffindor team when he was a first year.”

“Well, what position do you play?” Adrian asked after a moment. He knew he couldn’t allow Lane to join the team, at least not without either Professor Snape’s or Professor Dumbledore’s approval, but he supposed there was no harm in at least letting the boy tryout if he really wanted to.

“Keeper,” Lane answered.

“Interesting that our Keeper just quit and now you tell me you play the position,” Adrian said.

Lane grinned and said, “Well, I did sort of overhear Bletchley talking with Vaisey and Urquhart in the common room earlier, telling them he agreed with them and that he was going to quit.”

Looking at the boy, Adrian surmised that despite his youth, he might actually make a good Keeper. He was rather tall for his age and he had long arms, which would be good for keeping the Quaffle away from the hoops.

“Okay, Mr. Waters,” Adrian said. “You can tryout, but I’m warning you now that I can’t let you join the team without Professor Snape or Professor Dumbledore’s clearance, so, you may not know if you’ve made the team today.”

“Fine with me,” the boy said with a smile.

Turning to look at the other hopefuls, Adrian said, “Okay, those of you who are trying out as Chasers please stand here,” Adrian walked a short distance away and placed a small green flag in the ground. Four students, including sixth-years Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass went to stand by it. Walking a few paces away, Adrian placed a silver flag in the ground and said, “Those of you who are trying out as Beaters, stand here.”

Four more students, including Nick Delaney and Tom Byrne, came to stand by the silver flag. Noticing that one other student besides Lane hadn’t gone to stand in one of the designated areas, Adrian asked, “Mr. Harper isn’t it?”

The young man who Adrian was fairly certain was a fifth-year nodded and said, “Yes, I’m Eric Harper.”

“Are you trying out for Keeper then?” Adrian asked.

“Yeah,” Eric said. “I was with Lane when Bletchley decided to quit, so, since I also have experience with the position, I figured I’d come tryout.”

“Good,” Adrian said. “Well, then, let’s get started shall we?”

Adrian ran each person who came to tryout through their paces, trying to determine the full extent of each person’s skills and to determine who he thought would make the best addition to the team. Past captains of the team had always seemed to care more about the size of the players, rather then their skill, but Adrian firmly believed that skill was more important than size.

After an hour, Adrian blew his whistle and once everyone had landed, Adrian said, “Okay, I’ve watched all of you play and I’m ready to make my decisions. For Chasers, you all did well, but I think Miss Davis and Miss Greengrass were the best, so welcome to the team ladies. You both should be very proud because you’ve just made history. I looked through the records last night and you’re the first girls on the Slytherin team in over three centuries,” shifting his gaze to the two third-year boys who’d also tried out for Chasers, Adrian added, “Should I need alternates for a game, I’ll contact you Mr. Pritchard and Mr. Baddock.”

Tracey and Daphne smiled and came over to stand behind Adrian, who now said, “For Beaters, I must say I did not really care for your tactics Mr. Pelphrey,” Adrian pointed to a fourth-year boy with black hair. “I value good sportsmanship and I don’t believe that you have a grasp of that, so you can go. As for the rest of you, you all played well, but I think Mr. Delaney and Mr. Byrne were the better players. Welcome to the team guys. Miss Atkins, should I need a temporary replacement for either Mr. Delaney or Mr. Byrne, I’ll definitely keep you in mind.”

Nick and Tom came over and joined Daphne and Tracey behind Adrian, as Miss Atkins, a brown-haired third year girl, nodded to Adrian with a smile.

“Now as for Keeper,” Adrian said looking at Eric Harper and Lane Waters, “you were both very good, but I think you did the best job, Mr. Waters. I’ll talk with the professors and see if they’ll agree to let you join the team. If not, then the position is yours Mr. Harper. If Mr. Waters does get the position, then you’ll definitely be my first choice for an alternate, Mr. Harper, so I’ll want you at all of our practices and the same goes for you Miss Atkins, Mr. Pritchard, and Mr. Baddock.”

Eric nodded and smiled at both Lane and Adrian. Chelsea Atkins, Graham Pritchard, and Malcolm Baddock also nodded at Adrian.

“Okay, let’s head back up the castle, everyone,” Adrian said. “I’ll try to get a decision about Mr. Waters today. With nobody but Professor Dumbledore and Madam Hooch knowing beforehand when the games will be played, I really want to wrap this up as soon as possible so that we can all start training as a team.”

* * *

To be continued.


	30. The Greatest Gift

Harry Potter and the Return of the Heirs  
By J.C. Vascardi

* * *  
Chapter Twenty-Eight:  
The Greatest Gift  
* * *

Over a month had passed, and it was now Friday, December Twentieth, 1996. It was the final day of the fall term at Hogwarts. The students who would be returning to their homes for the holidays would be leaving this afternoon and those staying behind would find the castle much quieter than normal. Upon the start of the spring term, students in Professor Cromwell’s Music class would have to get used to calling him by a different name. For in just three days, he would become Professor Matthew Cromwell-Wood, following his marriage to long-time boyfriend, Professor Oliver Wood.

The wedding would be held in the Grand Ballroom at Cromwell Hall in Yorkshire. The thought of simply using the new Room of Requirement in the Great Hall to create a facsimile as was done on the night of the Halloween Ball had been suggested, but, in the end, Matthew and Oliver agreed that they wanted their ceremony to take place in the real Cromwell Hall. Matthew was still very upset about his father’s untimely passing and if he couldn’t have his father at his wedding, he at least wanted it to take place in his father’s home.

Percy convinced Barnabas Cuffe to have the _Daily Prophet_ print an apology to the heirs for revealing the details of their personal lives. The populace of the Wizarding world was also told that the portraits of the Founders had been found and that it wasn’t against the rules for Professor Weasley to be dating Nicolas, as they were both consenting adults.

After the trip to Atlantis, Minister Scrimgeour and the others had no choice but to admit that Atlantis still existed and they all spread the word that the experts quoted in the _Prophet_ had been wrong. Hogwarts was also given the okay by the Ministry to continue offering the Fencing, Archery, and other classes that had been listed in the article as being unapproved.

The Weasley family were let in on the secret that Tom Riddle, now known as Tom Byrne, and Voldemort were not, in fact, the same person, which meant that Nick wasn’t related to Voldemort. Molly and Arthur were still not exactly happy with Bill over the _Playwitch_ debacle, but they were no longer angry about his relationship with Nick. Of course, now that they’d had a chance to get to know him, both Molly and Arthur said that even if he were related to Voldemort, they wouldn’t have held it against him. As a very wise person once said, “You can choose your friends, but you can’t choose your family.”

Following the incident during the Quidditch game, Draco, for his own safety, obtained Professor Dumbledore’s permission to move out of the Slytherin dorms and into one of the guest rooms in Godric’s quarters.

Justin, Matthew, and Oliver had all moved into Rowena’s quarters with Ryan, Corelian, and Asheera. Bill and Angelique moved in with Nicolas and Tom moved out of Slytherin’s quarters. In the weeks since his return to Hogwarts, Tom had become good friends with Zach and was now living with him in Helga’s quarters. Zach would have been all alone, save Helga’s portrait, otherwise. Many students who consistently participated in the Hogwarts betting pools were betting that Zach and Tom were more than friends, however, if they were, they were not making it public knowledge.

As Christmas drew nearer, Draco was getting anxious. He was dating the man of his dreams, the man he had been secretly in love with for years. With his life going so well, what reason could he possibly have for feeling anxious? The answer was quite simple: Draco had no idea what to get Aarik for Christmas. He wanted to get his boyfriend something extra special, and he’d scoured all the shops during the last Hogsmeade visit, but he just couldn’t find anything that seemed special enough.

Draco was among the handful of students staying at Hogwarts during the winter break, as he didn’t really have anywhere to go. He certainly wasn’t going to go to Malfoy Manor, as he didn’t want to risk running into Lucius, Death Eaters, or worse Voldemort. He was going to Cromwell Hall for Matthew and Oliver’s wedding, but they weren’t leaving until December 22nd.

Most of the other students were all in their dorms packing, as the professors would be putting the students onto the carriages to take them down to Hogsmeade in a few hours. Draco was alone in the bell tower. Hardly anyone ever came into the tower and Draco often went there when he wanted time to himself to think. Lost in thought, Draco didn’t hear anyone enter the room.

“Is something wrong, Draco?”

Looking up, Draco saw Asheera standing in the doorway.

“No, nothing’s wrong.”

“Are you sure? You seem troubled.”

Draco thought about it for a moment and decided that there really wasn’t any harm in telling Asheera what was on his mind. Maybe she’d even have an idea for the perfect gift for his beloved Aarik.

“Well, it’s just that I can’t figure out what to get Aarik for Christmas,” Draco said. “I want to get him something extra special. I’ve scoured all the shops in Hogsmeade, but I just can’t find anything that seems right.”

“Hmm, yes, I see your dilemma,” Asheera said. “Picking just the right gift can be hard, especially when you want something extra special for a loved one.”

Draco nodded, but remained silent.

“You know, Draco,” Asheera said, “I may have an idea. You want to give Aarik an extra special gift, right? Well, how about something that all the money in the world can’t buy and the magic of all living wizards and witches cannot produce?”

“Where am I supposed to find something like that? And how am I supposed to get it once I do?”

“Well, I know of something that could be the perfect gift for Aarik,” Asheera said. “What I’m thinking of could be considered the gift to end all gifts - a gift of such immense value that no other gift could possibly compare to it. I think I can safely guarantee that Aarik will love it more than any gift he’s ever gotten before, and in the process of getting this gift, you could also get a gift for yourself as well.”

“You certainly know how to build up my curiosity,” Draco said. “Exactly what kind of gift are you talking about?”

“Come with me, Draco,” Asheera answered, “and I will show you.”

Asheera had certainly piqued Draco’s curiosity, and he knew that sitting around in the bell tower was not going to accomplish anything, so he went along with Asheera to see this alleged ultimate gift.

* * *

Meanwhile, Ryan was in the sixth-year boys’ dorm in Ravenclaw Tower. While it was true that he had now moved into Rowena’s quarters, he still liked to come back to the dorm and visit with his friends. All of them were packing their trunks and preparing to leave for the winter break. All of the sixth-year Ravenclaw boys were present, but one of them, Terry Boot, was keeping to himself. Ryan was still, understandably, not happy with Terry for stealing the book that his grandmother had given him so that Colin and the other members of his secret Harry Potter fan club could sneak around the castle unseen gathering information to sell to the _Daily Prophet_.

All of those involved were given two weeks of detention with each Head of House, for a total of eight weeks of detention that none of them had finished. Those involved also had their Hogsmeade privileges revoked for the rest of the year. Points were not taken, as it was agreed that it was unfair to punish everyone in the school for the actions of the fifteen students in Colin’s club.

“So you’re spending Christmas at Hogwarts, Ry?” Kevin asked.

“No, I’ll be at Cromwell Hall for Christmas,” Ryan answered. “We’re staying at Hogwarts until the 22nd though and then we’re leaving. Matt and Oliver are getting married on the 23rd and then we’re spending Christmas at home before returning to Hogwarts. What about you, Kev?”

“Going over to Steve’s house for the holidays,” Kevin answered. “Our parents decided that it was high time that the two families met.”

“Cool,” Ryan said with a smile. “Justin’s parents are meeting us at Cromwell Hall, too, so I guess you two won’t be the only ones meeting the parents.”

“Guess not,” Stephen said with a smile as he packed the last of his belongings and closed his trunk.

“What about you two?” Ryan asked, looking at Anthony Goldstein and Michael Corner.

“Oh the normal chaotic family holiday,” Michael said, as Ryan noticed Terry slip out of the room without a word. “My dad’s brothers and their families are coming in from Spain for the holiday.”

“Just a quiet family holiday for me,” Anthony said. “It’s just my mom and dad, so, it’ll be far less chaotic than Mike’s holiday.”

Ryan grinned at Anthony. He was tempted to ask if he was going to spend any time with Seamus Finnegan over the holidays, but after being outed himself by the _Daily Prophet_ , Ryan was not about to out anyone else. The only reason that he even knew about Anthony and Seamus was that Justin had found them together in an empty classroom a few weeks back. Justin had certainly gotten an eyeful that night, because when he found them, Seamus and Anthony were in the middle of shagging each other on the teacher’s desk.

“Well, we’d better get a move on,” Kevin said as he looked at the clock on the wall. “It’s nearly noon and the carriages to Hogsmeade leave in an hour. I want to get down to the Great Hall and eat something before the train ride, because after Christmas shopping, I’m a bit low on cash, so I don’t think I’ll be able to get anything off the trolley.”

“Yeah, same here,” Stephen said as he took Kevin’s hand in his and they prepared to leave the dorm. “Happy Christmas, guys, and we’ll see you next year.”

“Happy Christmas,” Ryan said with a smile, before following Kevin, Stephen, Michael, and Anthony out of the room.

* * *

Draco was in awe by his surroundings. When Asheera told him that she would show him the allegedly wondrous gift she thought Aarik would love, he never expected that a trip to Atlantis was necessary. However, that is exactly where Draco now was. He was sitting across from Asheera in a carriage pulled by two white horses, traveling down a road paved in limestone, which was lined by white marble planter boxes filled with colorful, fragrant flowers. The buildings on either side of the street were all constructed of various shades of marble and granite.

“All of the cities in Atlantis are not this beautiful,” Asheera explained. “However, Atlantia is the capital city and primary home of the royal family, so it was built up as extravagantly as possible to be the crown jewel of the kingdom. This section of the city is even more splendid then some others, because it’s the Nobles’ Quarter. If you look to your left, Draco, you’ll be able to see the royal palace on the hill overlooking the city.”

Draco looked to the left and he was sure that his eyes were on the verge of bugging out of his head, because standing on the hill overlooking the city was the largest building that Draco had ever seen. Draco grinned inwardly when he imagined Lucius’ reaction, as he had always considered Malfoy Manor to be the grandest home ever built. Not only did the manor pale drastically in comparison, but you could probably fit the entire house, the grounds, and the mausoleum inside the Atlantean royal palace at least five times and still have more then enough room.

“What are all those statues decorating the palace?” Draco asked as he looked at the numerous statues, which were too far away to see any clear detail.

“Those are the Olympians,” Asheera answered. “All of the statues were carved from limestone and then painted so that they’re full-color representations of each deity. They’re all twenty-feet tall, save for two of them, which are thirty-foot tall statues of the Patron Deity of Atlantis, Poseidon, and his wife, Amphitrite.”

Draco nodded and continued to take in the surroundings in awe. As the carriage turned a corner, Draco noticed that there was a pair of large gates up ahead that blocked further access into an adjacent district. Curious, Draco asked, “Where are we going?”

“The Temple District,” Asheera answered. “More precisely, our destination is the Temple of Persephone.”

Draco nodded. He would have said more, but the carriage had come to a stop at the large gates. A guard came out of a nearby gatehouse and after seeing Asheera, he bowed, before waving his hand at the gates, opening them. The carriage then continued to move as it went through the large gates into what Draco assumed must be the Temple District.

“This is the Temple District, Draco,” Asheera confirmed. “Most Atlantean cities don’t have this many temples, but as the capital city, not to mention the largest city, Atlantia has a temple to every God and Goddess of the Olympian pantheon.”

“So, all of these buildings are temples?” Draco asked as he looked around at the various buildings, all of which were among the grandest buildings that Draco had ever seen.

“Yes, they are,” answered Asheera, as she started pointing at each temple they passed and naming it. Some of the temples she named were the Citadel of Poseidon, Amphitrite’s Lagoon, Zeus’ Stronghold, the Orchard of Hera, the Garden of Demeter, the Arbor of Athena and the Oracle of Apollo.

It was just after they had passed the temple that Asheera identified as being the Gates of Hades that the carriage slowed and stopped. The driver of the carriage got down and proceeded to assist Asheera down, before helping Draco down.

“Here we are, Draco,” Asheera said with great pride. “Welcome to the Temple of Persephone, also known as Persephone’s Arboretum. Follow me.”

Draco followed as Asheera walked up the stairs and entered the temple. Upon entering, Draco was again in awe as he took in the decadent elegance of the room. The walls and floors were highly polished white marble, accented by black marble pillars. The center of the room was dominated by a ten-foot tall statue of Persephone, which like the statues Draco had seen at a distance on the palace, was painted to show the goddess in full-color.

“My Lady High Priestess,” a nearby priestess said as she came over to Asheera, kneeled, and bowed her head. “You’ve come just in time. We expect that the fruit will ripen soon.”

‘High Priestess? Fruit?’ Draco thought. ‘What is going on?’

“I am glad to hear it, Anarra,” Asheera said. “Please stand and allow me to introduce you to Draco Lucien Malfoy. I’ve judged him to be the pure-hearted person worthy of using the fruit of the Tree of Life.”

The Priestess Anarra stood and looked at Draco for a moment, before turning to address Asheera, “Forgive me, My Lady High Priestess, but isn’t he a human?”

“Yes, Anarra, he is indeed human,” confirmed Asheera. “That does not change the fact, however, that I think him to be pure enough of heart to deserve the rare boon of using the Tree of Life’s fruit. Draco and his boyfriend, Aarik, are both good friends of my step-son, Kyrian. I expect that at some point, Kyrian will decide to sponsor Draco and Aarik in taking the Atlantean marriage vows. Not that it really matters, as the ancient scrolls make no mention of our beloved goddess saying that only Atlanteans could use the fruit that she so lovingly cultivated.”

“It is as you say, My Lady,” Anarra said as she bowed again.

“Come, let us go outside to the gardens and watch the rare miracle of the Tree of Life blooming,” Asheera said. “It is certainly something that none of us will live to see again.”

“Yes, My Lady High Priestess,” Anarra said, and Draco could tell that she was obviously very excited about the fruit of this Tree of Life.

‘What is this Tree of Life, though?’ Draco thought. ‘Why is it so special? Asheera said she thought I could use it. Does that mean that this fruit is the allegedly wondrous gift that Aarik will love?’

Asheera looked at Draco and said, “I’m sure you have many questions running through your mind, Draco. I promise that I will do my best to answer them, however, let us go now to the gardens. You are about to witness a miracle a thousand years in the making that you will most assuredly never be able to see again. You wouldn’t want to miss that, would you?”

“No, I wouldn’t,” Draco said as he followed Asheera out of a side door of the temple, with Anarra following close behind.

* * *

Arriving in the gardens behind the temple, Draco immediately saw the large flowering tree that was obviously the garden’s centerpiece. Several women dressed similarly to Anarra who Draco assumed to be more priestesses of Persephone were gathered around the tree.

Asheera stepped forward and said, “We are about to witness a true miracle, my sisters; a testament to Persephone’s power and grace. I pray that we all remember this day for the rest of our lives, as it is surely one of the most auspicious days that any of us shall ever see. Praise be to the Goddess Persephone, our beloved maiden!”

Moments after Asheera finished her speech, the vibrant pink blossoms on the tree fell to the ground. Seconds later the beginnings of fruit could be seen and within minutes, a single, large, golden peach hung from the tree. The gathered priestesses were admiring it as if it was the greatest and most expensive jewel they had ever seen.

While watching the tree go from beautiful flowering tree to bearing a fruit in a matter of minutes might be interesting, Draco failed to see what the big deal was. Obviously, the tree was blessed with great magic, but he did not yet know what was so special about it.

After leading the gathered priestesses in a few prayers to Persephone for her continued grace and blessings, Asheera said, “Leave us, my sisters. I have much to discuss with my guest and very little time in which to do it.”

Once the assembled priestesses had left the garden, Asheera turned to Draco and motioned for him to sit down on a nearby bench. He did and Asheera soon joined him, before saying, “As I’m sure you’ve already figured out, Draco, in addition to being Mistress of the Sphere of Life, I am also the High Priestess of Persephone, the Beloved Maiden and Queen of Tartarus.”

“Tartarus? As in the Land of the Dead?”

“The very same, Draco,” Asheera said. “As you may know, Persephone was the daughter of Zeus and Demeter. She married Hades and became Queen of Tartarus after Hades abducted her and tricked her into eating four pomegranate seeds, which meant that she had to spend four months of every year in Tartarus with him. During her time in Tartarus, Persephone saw many people entering her new realm long before their scheduled time, struck down in their prime, and in some cases long before their prime, by the infernal curse we today know as one of the most Unforgivable in existence, the Killing Curse.

“With each new soul that entered Tartarus before their time, Persephone grew sadder. She had been forced to spend time in Tartarus against her will and she resolved to try to do something for all the souls who ended up there prematurely. Therefore, she talked with her father about it and asked if it would be possible to create an artifact that would allow a mortal to journey to Tartarus while still alive and challenge her husband for the soul or souls of someone who had been killed by the Killing Curse. Zeus could see how important it was to his daughter, so he called a meeting of what we Atlanteans refer to as The Six.”

“The Six?” Draco asked.

“Yes, as in the six first generation Olympians,” Asheera answered, “specifically Zeus himself, his sister-wife Hera, and their other siblings Poseidon, Hades, Demeter and Hestia. Persephone presented her case and then it was put to a vote. Of course, the obvious problem with voting on anything with six voters is that there is a chance for a tie, which is exactly what happened. Demeter, naturally, sided with her daughter, as did Zeus and Hestia. Hera, the ever jealous wife, was not going to vote in favor of anything suggested by one of Zeus’ many children with someone other than her, so she sided with Hades, as did Poseidon.”

“What happened then?” Draco asked.

“Demeter suggested that since they were voting on Persephone’s proposal, it would be unfair to allow her a vote, and instead suggested allowing Amphitrite to cast the deciding vote. Zeus agreed and sent Hermes to collect Amphitrite. After hearing both sides of the proposal, without being told who had voted how, Amphitrite was asked for her vote and she voted in favor of it.”

“I imagine Hades was not very happy about that,” Draco said.

“No, he wasn’t,” Asheera said. “According to the ancient texts, Hades was so angry with Amphitrite that he physically attacked her, greatly angering Poseidon. Hades and Poseidon were soon throwing vast amounts of magic at one another. To help you picture the power involved here, the spells that Poseidon and Hades were using against each other could easily have reduced Mt. Everest to a pile of dust. Zeus certainly wasn’t going to just stand there and let them fight, so he called upon his own vast powers to put an end to it. Once everyone was settled down again, Poseidon was so angry with Hades that he changed his vote, making the final vote five to two in favor of Persephone’s proposal.”

“So, what happened then?”

“Well, once the proposal was passed, they all debated how to carry out Persephone’s proposal. It was decided that Persephone would be allowed to plant a tree, this tree,” Asheera said as she pointed at the Tree of Life, “which would produce a peach that if eaten would allow a person to journey to Tartarus while still alive. Now, Persephone wanted the tree to be a normal peach tree that bloomed every year. Hades, however, hated that idea and insisted on the tree producing only one peach every 3,000 years. Persephone thought that was too long a period though and convinced Hades to allow the tree to produce one peach every 1,000 years in exchange for remaining with him in Tartarus for six months a year, instead of only four.”

“So, once a person has eaten this fruit, what happens?”

“Once eaten, the challenger is instantly transported to Tartarus,” answered Asheera. “Instead of a pit, the peach has an obolus in the center – the payment given to Charon in order to cross the River Acheron, which must be crossed in order to reach the Palace of the Dead. Once there, the challenger had to gain an audience with Hades and he was required to meet with them within an hour of their arrival. During this audience, the challenger must claim the soul or souls that he or she wished to free from Tartarus. Now, there is a limit of four souls, one soul for each of the pomegranate seeds that Persephone ate, and the Killing Curse is the required cause of death. Any other cause of death renders the soul ineligible of being claimed.

“Hades would then issue a challenge, which had to be completed. If the challenger succeeded, Hades would restore the claimed souls to life and allow them all to leave. If the challenger failed to successfully complete Hades’ challenge, then the claimed souls would remain dead and the challenger forfeits their own life.”

“Wow,” Draco said. “So, if I were to eat that peach, I could go to Tartarus and challenge Hades for my mum?”

“You’re partially correct, Draco,” Asheera replied. “You would not be challenging Hades, as he, like all the other Olympians retreated to Mt. Olympus shortly after the sinking of Atlantis five thousand years ago and have not been back since. If you were to eat that peach, you would go to Tartarus, but you would be challenging Valshar, the Lord of the Dead.”

“Valshar?” Draco asked. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard that name in connection with Tartarus before.”

“Well, when the Olympians decided to withdraw from the Mortal Plane for Mt. Olympus, obviously a replacement was necessary to rule Tartarus. Around that time, a Macedonian wizard by the name of Valshar was seeking the ambrosia necessary to become a god. He brutally tortured and killed a thousand innocent people in his quest for the ambrosia, succeeding in drawing the attention of the Olympians, who decided that he needed to be punished.

“As punishment, he was cast into Tartarus, while still alive, as both ruler and prisoner. The Olympians chained him to Hades’ ebony throne and made him immortal. They then cast a powerful spell on him that would cause him to change from a human to a skeleton of gigantic proportions. Now, this transformation was extremely painful and very slow; it took a thousand years to be completed – one year for each innocent person that Valshar had tortured and killed. To best understand how painful, imagine the pain of the Cruciatus Curse, multiplied by a hundred and applied non-stop for a thousand years. That amount of pain would have been more then enough to kill him, but as the Olympians made him immortal, he had no choice but to endure it.”

Draco shivered at the thought of the Cruciatus Curse and prayed he never had to feel it again. Having actually felt that kind of pain, an infinitesimal part of Draco wanted to feel sorry for Valshar, but in the end, he decided that Valshar deserved the pain for killing so many innocent people.

“Of course, once the transformation was complete,” Asheera said, “the Olympians had a new punishment in store for Valshar. One that they neglected to tell him about, choosing instead to torture him further by allowing him to think that once the thousand years had ended, his only punishment would be that he’d still be chained to the throne of Tartarus for eternity.”

“What was the new punishment?”

“Well, first you must understand how death works,” Asheera said. “When a person dies, their soul travels to another plane which is known as Limbo, where their soul is judged. If judged to be good and worthy of eternal peace, they are sent on to Tartarus. If judged to be evil and worthy of eternal suffering, then they are sent to one of the Nine Hells, which one depending on how evil they were in life.”

Draco nodded his understanding, and then Asheera continued, “When Hades ruled Tartarus and during Valshar’s first thousand years as ruler, they simply relieved the souls of the dead of all their bad memories, fears, nightmares, et cetera. Valshar’s second punishment, however, is best described as a reverse Dementor effect. Upon the end of his transformation, he was stripped of the ability to simply wipe away the bad memories and nightmares of the dead. Instead, he was forced to take all of those bad memories and nightmares into himself; much like a Dementor takes good memories. Valshar’s mind clears whenever he’s having an audience with someone, giving him a temporary break, but as soon as audiences end, every single bad memory, fear, and nightmare of every single soul who has died since his second punishment began replays on an endless loop in his mind for eternity.”

“Ah, well that answers that,” Draco drawled. “So, this peach is the gift to end all gifts you spoke of earlier?”

“Yes, Draco, it is,” Asheera said. “I realize that the risk is high. If you were to fail, you would forfeit your own life, but if you succeeded, you could not only give yourself a gift, that is getting your mother back, but you could also give Aarik the best gift that anyone could ever give him.”

“I’m not sure about his, Asheera,” Draco said. “Could I have a few days to think about it?”

“I’m afraid not, Draco,” Asheera said. “You see this tree produces only one peach every 1,000 years and it only remains fresh for twenty-four hours. If it remains uneaten, it will shrivel and rot, meaning that you’d have to wait until the year 2996 to get another chance. You will already be among the dead souls in Tartarus long before then. And before you ask, it is not possible to use a Time Turner to go to 2996 and get the peach as Persephone’s magic prevents such foolery.”

“Well, it’s very tempting,” said Draco. “However, I am a Slytherin and we are all about self-preservation. I’m not sure if I’m up to risking my life. I mean, how am I supposed to succeed in completing the challenge that Valshar gives me? I’m a sixth-year student for Merlin’s sake! I’m nowhere near powerful enough to handle anything that Valshar might throw my way.”

“You would not be going unprepared, Draco,” Asheera said. “I realize that it’s very dangerous and I’m not about to suggest that you travel to Tartarus without equipment geared to helping you succeed.”

“What kind of equipment?”

“If you go,” Asheera said, “I will see to it that you are outfitted with a full suit of mythril plate armor. Mythril is an indestructible, feather-light metal that is extremely abundant in Atlantis. It is also resistant to magic. Even the Killing Curse can’t get past a layer of mythril. Not knowing what kind of challenge you might be given, I would also insure that you be given certain artifacts which will certainly help you.”

“What kinds of artifacts?”

“Well, how does Hades’ Helm of Invisibility sound?” Asheera asked. “I happen to know that it’s stored in the vaults next door at the Gates of Hades. I can also arrange for the High Priest of Ares to allow you to use Ares’ sword and shield. I can also get you the magical bow of Apollo and his Mirror of Truth.”

Draco thought about it for several long and quiet moments. “You’ve convinced me. I must be nuts, but I’ll go to Tartarus. The risk will be worth it if I succeed and can have my mum back. Not to mention how happy Aarik will be.”

“Excellent, Draco,” Asheera said. “I shall gather the equipment immediately and you can be off.”

* * *

When Draco ate the peach, a bright white light surrounded him, causing him to be blinded to things around him. When he could see again, he took a moment to look around at his new surroundings. The elaborate Temple of Persephone, Asheera and the priestesses were gone and he was now standing in a cold and desolate place, which seemed devoid of life. Draco instantly knew that he had arrived in Tartarus, the Land of the Dead.

“Draco Lucien Malfoy, you must have been crazy to even consider this,” Draco said to himself. Then after a few deep breaths, he said, “Well, I’m here now, so I might as well do what I came to do.”

Draco could see the River Acheron flowing nearby and looking around for a moment he soon noticed a dark and imposing looking boat docked on the shore some twenty yards away. Draco took a deep breath and walked towards the boat. Draco soon noticed several dead spirits sitting in the boat waiting to cross the river and head for the palace of the Lord of the Dead. He also noticed the black hooded figure standing near the boat's gangplank and he instantly knew that it must be Charon, who ferried the spirits of the dead across the river.

As Draco approached, the figure held out its’ hand and Draco knew that Charon was silently asking for a fare to cross the river. Reaching into his pocket, Draco took out the obolus that had been in the center of the peach where the pit usually was. Dropping it into Charon’s hand, the ferryman nodded and waved Draco onto the boat. Within minutes, the boat was crossing the river, and for the first time, Draco could see the imposing edifice of the palace in the distance. When the boat docked on the opposite shore, Draco got out of the boat and followed the spirits of the dead up the steep hill to the palace. As they approached, he could see two black hooded figures standing guard outside the palace's ornate double doors.

One of the guards opened the doors for the group to allow all the spirits to pass through them, but the guard quickly closed the doors before Draco could do so.

'I should have known it wouldn't be that easy,' Draco thought to himself.

"What is this I see?" one of the guards said in a low voice. "A man of flesh?"

"I seek an audience with Lord Valshar," Draco replied in his clearest voice.

"Still wearing your flesh?" the guard asked in his low voice that had a hint of incredulity in it.

"Yes, still wearing my flesh," Draco answered firmly.

"Well, it's your own life to do with as you please," the guard said, as he opened the door to allow Draco to pass through. "The Throne Room is straight ahead through the doors under the grand staircase."

Draco nodded as he entered the palace and took in the sight around him. Despite the cold and desolate look of the land outside, the palace was a truly beautiful place. Draco stepped forward towards the large doors to the throne room and they swung open as he neared them. Looking into the large room, Draco could see Valshar, Lord of the Dead, sitting in his throne at the far end of the room, the numerous shackles and chains that bound him glinting in the torchlight.

Taking a deep breath, Draco strode forward towards the massive throne. Valshar was easily the size of a giant and was mostly skeletal in appearance, with his face and hands being the only parts to still have any flesh - dark gray, rotted flesh, but still flesh. As Draco approached Valshar, he was thankful that the reverse Dementor effect Asheera had mentioned proved to be true. When he couldn't feel any negative emotion, his good emotions, such as his love for Aarik, shown through and gave him the courage to do what he came for.

"Why have you come to my realm still wearing your flesh?" Valshar asked as Draco approached. "It does not matter though. If you are so eager for death, then you shall find it. Touch my hand, you will feel no pain."

"I did not come to die, Lord Valshar," Draco said.

"My, my, it knows my name. So, mortal, if you’re not here to die then why are you here?"

“I ate the fruit of the Tree of Life,” Draco answered.

“Ah, yes, I should have known. You are not Atlantean, but you are wearing the symbols of Atlantis, I can see that plainly enough. So, another thousand years have passed, has it? No matter, whose soul do you seek in this challenge? Perhaps you’ve come for the spirit of some dead maiden? Or maybe you’re like the last challenger who came before me – a wizard who had come to claim the soul of his dead apprentice that he’d secretly taken as his lover.”

Draco had been thinking about who to claim ever since he’d left Atlantis. He knew that he could claim four people. Obviously, he’d claim his mum and Aarik’s parents, but what about the fourth? He’d considered claiming Charles Cromwell, but he didn’t fit the criteria, because he did not die of the Killing Curse. Eventually he had decided and he now said, “I seek the souls of Narcissa Druella Black-Malfoy, James Nathan Potter, Lily Marie Evans-Potter, and Cedric Jeremiah Diggory.”

“You would claim four human souls and return to the Land of the Living yourself?” Valshar asked and Draco nodded. “That shall not be an easy task, mortal. The crypt doors do not open easily; allow me to think for a moment of an appropriate task.”

Draco nodded, as Valshar closed his eyes in thought for a moment, before he opened them and said, "Ah, yes, I have it now. For millennia, I have sat upon this throne and witnessed horrors, the likes of which cannot be imagined. A parade of never ending pain and suffering, and yet through it all, I have never shed a tear. Make me cry, mortal, that is your challenge! I’m sure you won’t succeed, but at least your pitiful attempt will be an amusing distraction."

‘Make the Lord of the Dead cry?’ Draco thought. ‘Oh Gods, what have I gotten myself into? How am I supposed to make Death cry?’

As if some divine entity had decided to help Draco, the answer came to him almost as soon as he’d asked the question. Reaching into the pocket of the Atlantean battle robes that covered the mythril armor that Asheera had given him, Draco pulled out Apollo’s golden Mirror of Truth.

“If your existence has been all you say it has, then I think the truth will be my weapon,” Draco said. Upon those words, Draco tightened his grip upon the Mirror of Truth and held it up so that Valshar could peer into its’ face. Draco could feel the mirror shudder in his grasp and it began to grow hot to the touch, but Draco refused to let go of it until the heat of the mirror killed him or he succeeded in completing Valshar's challenge. Draco couldn't see the mirror's face, but Valshar was transfixed to the mirror. The expression on his face, Draco decided, looked almost pained as the images continued for several minutes.

With each passing minute, the expression on Valshar's face got more and more pained and the mirror grew hotter and hotter, until finally Valshar let out a muffled gasp and choked out, "Take it away, mortal! Make it stop!"

The heat from the mirror increased and it began to tremble violently in Draco's grasp, until suddenly the sound of glass shattering filled the room, as the Mirror of Truth cracked under the strain and Valshar shed a single tear.

Draco returned the now broken mirror to the pocket of his robe, as Valshar remained silent for a few moments, obviously trying to recover from the experience before he opened his eyes and said, "Truth is a truly terrible thing. I have sat upon this throne for so long, I had nearly forgotten the pain of my enslavement. You shall take the souls you have claimed and leave." Valshar looked over to one of the black hooded guards and said in a strong and commanding voice, "You! Find the souls he claimed and bring them before me!"

Moments later, the hooded guard returned with the souls of Narcissa Malfoy, James Potter, Lily Potter, and Cedric Diggory following. Valshar looked at the four of them for a minute, before he said, “Your hero has won you a second chance at life. You have been granted a stay from this inevitable reality – I almost envy you.”

Valshar raised his hand and waved it in front of the spirits as a silvery mist shot forth from his fingertips and the four of them were resurrected back into flesh and blood beings.

"Now, to return you to the Land of the Living," Valshar said, as he again turned to one of the guards and said, "Summon the Dullahan and prepare the coach!"

The guard nodded to Valshar and again hurried out of the throne room. He returned a moment later and Valshar said, "The Dullahan will drive the coach back to the Land of the Living, simply tell him where you wish to go. I ask that you not discuss what has just happened until you are safely home. As for you, mortal, until we meet again then; I assure you, we will meet again."

"No offense, my Lord Valshar, but I hope that is many long years from now,” Draco said.

"It is never as long as one might wish, mortal," Valshar said. "You would be wise to remember that. Now, be gone!"

Draco bowed slightly and said, "Yes, my Lord," before he and the people he just saved from death followed the guard out of the palace. When they arrived outside, Draco saw a large black coach, pulled by six black horses. A solitary driver sat atop the driver’s seat and Draco couldn't help but notice that he had no head. The driver turned to the group and spoke, "Where is it that you wish to go?"

"Hogwarts Castle," Draco answered and the driver bowed slightly and said, "Get in," as the coach's door opened. Draco helped his mother and Lily climb into the coach first, followed by Cedric and James, before getting in himself. The coach's door promptly closed and the distinct sound of a whip broke through the silence as the horses neighed and the coach jolted forward and took to the skies.

* * *

To be continued.


	31. Dreams Really Do Come True, Part One

Harry Potter and the Return of the Heirs  
By J.C. Vascardi

* * *  
Chapter Twenty-Nine:  
Dreams Really Do Come True, Part One  
* * *

It was now twenty minutes to one and the school carriages had lined up in the driveway outside of the school, ready to take the students who were leaving down to the train station in Hogsmeade for the trip back to London.

Aarik was alone in Godric’s quarters, looking quite distressed, and Godric couldn’t help but notice.

“Is something wrong, Aarik?”

Aarik looked up from where he was studying the Marauder’s Map and said, “Yeah, I can’t find Draco anywhere. I’ve scoured the map and he’s nowhere to be found.”

“Perhaps he’s already left for the term?” Godric suggested.

“No, that’s not possible,” answered Aarik. “Not without saying goodbye to me first. Not to mention that he’s supposed to be staying at Hogwarts for winter break.”

“Well, I’m sure he must be here somewhere then,” Godric said. “He can’t have just vanished into thin air.”

Over the last few weeks, Godric had gotten to know Draco and realized that he wasn’t a bad person, just because he was in Slytherin house. Godric had also had plenty of time to reflect on what he’d done to malign Salazar’s name and he realized that his actions were very wrong and he was now doing everything he could to put things right.

A silvery-gray cloud soon entered the room as Alaric materialized nearby and said, “Hello, Aarik. If you’re looking for Draco, he left this morning.”

“Where’d he go?” Aarik asked.

“I don’t know,” replied Alaric. “All I know is that he left this morning.”

“Was he alone?” Godric asked.

“No, Asheera was with him,” Alaric answered. “So, wherever Draco is, I’m sure he’s safe. Asheera is a very powerful witch and I’m sure she wouldn’t let Draco be harmed in anyway.”

“I certainly hope so,” Aarik said. “I don’t know what I’d do if Draco got hurt. I love him.”

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Godric said. “Anyway, Aarik, if you’re going to say goodbye to your friends, you’d better get downstairs. The carriages are leaving in ten minutes.”

Aarik nodded and after a quick goodbye to Godric and Alaric, ran out of the room. He was still worried about Draco’s sudden disappearance, but the fact that Asheera was with him did provide him with some comfort.

* * *

At precisely one o’clock in the afternoon, Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall greeted the students going home in the entry hall.

“Good afternoon, students,” Professor Dumbledore said. “Before you get on the carriages, I just want to wish all of you Happy Holidays and I hope to see all of you back here safe and sound come January Fifth.”

The hall erupted in a chorus of voices as many of the departing students wished Dumbledore and McGonagall a happy holiday season as well. McGonagall raised her hands after a moment and called for silence as Mr. Filch opened the large entry doors of the castle.

“Those of you who have been here for awhile, know how we do this,” Professor McGonagall said once the hall had quieted. “Will the first years please come forward?”

The first years came forward and Professor McGonagall led them outside to the awaiting carriages. The first of the now full carriages soon began to move down the drive towards Hogsmeade as Professor Dumbledore led the second years out of the castle and into more carriages. This continued until finally Professor McGonagall saw the seventh years into the last of the carriages.

Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall stood on the steps of the castle for a moment, watching the carriages grow ever distant, as they got closer to Hogsmeade. Just when they were about to turn and go back into the warmth of the castle, however, a strange sound filled the air.

“Albus, do you hear that?” McGonagall asked.

“Yes, I do, Minerva,” Dumbledore answered. “Where is it coming from?”

The two professors were both looking around, trying to determine the source of the sound, which sounded like several pairs of horse’s hooves galloping on a cobblestone road. The sound had caught the professors’ attention, since the nearest cobblestones were the streets of Hogsmeade; the driveway up to Hogwarts Castle was dirt. Neither Dumbledore or McGonagall could figure out where the sound could be coming from, because there was simply no way that the sound of hooves on the streets of Hogsmeade would be audible this far away. Not to mention the fact that as they stood there trying to figure out where the sound was coming from, it was getting louder, as if whatever was making it was getting closer.

Finally, Filch realized what was making the noise. He pointed up towards the sky over the Quidditch pitch and exclaimed, “Look!”

Both Dumbledore and McGonagall looked up to where the caretaker was pointing and they both gasped at the sight before their eyes. In the sky over the Quidditch pitch, barreling down from the heavens like a meteor on a collision course was a large black coach, pulled by a team of six black horses. Not only was the coach black, but even from this distance, one could clearly see that it was draped in black damask and had large black feather plumes sticking up from the corners of the roof.

“Mr. Filch gather the rest of the staff,” Dumbledore said urgently. “I don’t know if we’re under attack, but I want to be prepared if we are.”

Filch nodded as he hurried into the castle. Dumbledore and McGonagall both drew their wands as they watched the coach get closer. Professors Snape, Flitwick, Vector, Sinistra, and Sprout soon joined Dumbledore and McGonagall on the front steps of the castle, their wands drawn.

“What in Merlin’s name is that?” Sinistra asked.

“I don’t know,” answered Dumbledore.

The gathered professors watched silently as the ominous black coach went into a sharp turn on the edge of the Forbidden Forest as it continued its descent. The coach’s wheels soon touched down on the driveway about a hundred meters outside the gates of Hogwarts. The professors watched as the coach sped towards the gates, traveling so fast that the snow on the ground was actually melting from the friction of the speeding coach. The main gates, which had closed and locked after the last of the school carriages had passed through them, burst open as the coach neared. The speeding coach soon began to slow, as it neared the castle, before coming to a stop in front of the main entrance.

The professors all did a double take as they looked up at the coach’s driver’s seat and saw that the driver had no head on its’ shoulders.

“Who are you?” Dumbledore demanded in his most commanding voice.

The driver turned his body to face the professors, before raising his right hand, which was holding his severed head by the hair. The skin was the color and texture of moldy cheese. A hideous grin split the face from ear to ear and the small black eyes looked like malignant flies. The entire head glowed with the phosphorescence of decaying matter.

The head made a noise, as if clearing its’ throat, before a low, raspy voice said, “I believe you would know me as the Dullahan.”

“The Dullahan?” Dumbledore repeated. “You mean...”

“Yes, mortal known as Albus Dumbledore, I am the Dullahan, the driver of the Costa Bower, also known as the Death Coach.”

“Why are you capable of speech?” Flitwick asked from his place next to Dumbledore. “According to legend, you can only speak once on each journey you undertake and then only the name of the soul you are collecting for the afterlife.”

“The legend is true, mortal known as Filius Flitwick, I usually cannot speak this much.”

“Why are you here?” Dumbledore asked.

“On this extremely rare journey, one I only make every 1,000 years, I am not here for the usual purpose of retrieving a soul for the journey to Tartarus. By the order of my master Valshar, the Lord of the Dead, who has granted me more speech than normal, I am here to return five people back to the Land of the Living from the clutches of death itself.”

“What nonsense is this?” Snape asked.

“Silence mortal known as Severus Snape, before I strike thee down where you stand! My extended power of speech grows short and I will not answer anymore questions,” the Dullahan rasped as he waved his left hand at the door to the coach, causing it to open. From within the black curtained coach, a blond head appeared and it was soon apparent who it belonged to.

“Mr. Malfoy?” Dumbledore asked, clearly shocked, as Draco Malfoy stepped down from the coach. “Why are you with the Dullahan?”

“I’ve been to Tartarus and back, Professor. Beyond that, well, your questions will be answered in time,” Draco said, before looking at all of the professors and adding, “Now, however, I suggest that you all prepare yourselves for the biggest shock of your lives.”

Dumbledore looked at Draco for a moment, before he nodded. Draco then turned and reached his hand into the darkness of the coach, as a hand took his. Many gasps were heard from the gathered professors, as Draco assisted his dead mother, who was looking very much alive and well, down from the coach. Draco then reached his hand into the darkness again and another female hand grabbed his own. If Narcissa's appearance had caused a stir, then the appearance of this second person caused nearly pandemonium.

For standing in the doorway of the coach, her red hair and green eyes glistening in the late afternoon sun, was the long dead, Lily Evans-Potter. Of course, the shocks did not stop, for as soon as Lily exited the coach, she was soon followed by James Potter and Cedric Diggory.

Before anyone could speak a word, the Dullahan waved his hand and the door of the coach slammed shut. Everyone jumped as the sound of the Dullahan's whip, a human spine, cracked through the silence. The six black horses neighed and flames shot out of their nostrils as they galloped forward and took to the skies. Within seconds, the coach was gone from sight.

"Would all the Heads of House please join me in my office?" Dumbledore asked. "I think we need to talk, Mr. Malfoy."

"I request that you call Asheera to the meeting, Headmaster," Draco said. "She'll be very helpful in explaining what has happened. Oh, and my mother, Cedric, and the Potters should receive medical attention - specifically a Magic Restorative Draft.”

"As you wish, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said, as he turned to Professors Vector and Sinistra. "Septima, please escort them to the hospital wing and ask Poppy to administer the potions. Aurora, please go to Rowena’s quarters and ask Asheera to come to my office."

Both professors nodded, before Aurora Sinistra hurried into the castle to collect Asheera, and Septima Vector motioned for James, Lily, Cedric, and Narcissa to follow her, as Dumbledore lead Draco and the Heads of House to his office.

* * *

“Is this all a strange dream?” Sprout asked as she sat down in a chair in front of Dumbledore’s desk. It was clear that she was beyond shocked at having just seen Cedric alive, not to mention Narcissa and the Potters.

“If it is, I’m having the same one, Pomona,” Flitwick replied, as he took a seat.

“James and Lily Potter alive, I can’t believe it,” McGonagall commented.

Snape remained quiet, although the look on his face clearly said that he was not the least bit happy to see James Potter alive.

“Mr. Malfoy, what happened?” Dumbledore asked as he sat down behind his desk.

“As I said, I’ve been to Tartarus and back,” Draco drawled. “And I decided not to come back alone.”

“How did you travel to Tartarus?” Dumbledore asked. “Why did you go to Tartarus? I must say that I’ve never heard of anyone going to the Land of the Dead and returning with people who are supposed to be dead, looking very much alive.”

“I believe I can explain that,” Asheera said as she sauntered into the room and took a seat.

“Then by all means, please do,” McGonagall said.

Asheera smiled, nodded, and launched into the same explanation that she had given Draco only hours earlier.

“So, you’re saying that Draco risked his own life to go to Tartarus and bring back Narcissa, Diggory and the Potters?” Snape asked after Asheera finished her explanation.

“Precisely, Severus,” Asheera answered.

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment, before giving Asheera a withering look and asked, “What in Merlin’s name possessed you to allow this? It was just last month that Poppy, you, and I spent hours feverishly trying to save Draco’s life and now you allow him to do something that could have made that all for naught?”

“You are Draco’s godfather,” Asheera said. “You do have a right to be angry with me, Severus; however, I shall not apologize for doing what I did. Especially since Draco was successful. If you ask me, instead of dwelling on the fact that Draco could have died, we should be lauding him for his bravery.”

“I do not suffer fools easily, madam,” Snape said, “and right now, I think you are the biggest fool I’ve ever met.”

“Watch your tongue, Severus!” Asheera said in a stern voice that nobody in the room had ever heard her use before. “I am almost eight times your age and I will not be spoken to in such a manner! Despite what you may think, I am no fool. I know you are mad that I allowed Draco to risk his life, but I don’t think that’s the sole root of your anger, and we both know it. You may not want to admit it, but you’re just angry because James Potter is among the living again. It means you are indebted to him, again, because as you well know, there’s a life debt between you and I’m sure you must know that while you have helped James’ son survive in the past, that doesn’t cancel or satisfy your life debt.”

Asheera didn’t say it, but added in her mind, ‘Especially since you’re the one who is ultimately responsible for his death, considering that you told Voldemort about the prophecy, which was the whole reason they had to go into hiding in the first place.’

Snape looked like he was about to unleash a scathing comment on Asheera, but Draco held up a hand to his godfather and said, “Sev, chill. What’s done is done and while I appreciate that you care so much, it’s my life and it was my decision to risk it. It’s not as if Asheera sent me unprepared. In case you hadn’t noticed my attire, these are Atlantean battle robes. Nothing particularly special about them, but they cover a full suit of mythril plate armor.”

“Mythril plate armor?” Dumbledore asked.

“Yes,” Asheera said. “Mythril is a very abundant metal in Atlantis. It’s indestructible, feather-light, and highly resistant to magic. It can even block the Killing Curse.”

“That would be very useful in this war,” Dumbledore said. “I wonder if Godric’s armory can produce mythril. I’ll have to ask him.”

“If it can’t the Atlantean armory can provide all the suits you need,” Asheera said. “King Erevan may not be able to commit Atlantean troops in the war, but I’m sure he’ll be more then happy to help in any other way that he can.”

“Asheera also gave me a few other items to help me,” Draco continued, before getting a guilty look on his face and said, “Ah, by the way, Asheera, Valshar’s challenge was that I make him cry. I used Apollo’s Mirror of Truth and it broke from the strain.”

Asheera smiled at Draco and said, “Draco, I do hope that you can forgive me for being duplicitous, but I lied to you. Those items I gave you, while very powerful magical items, never belonged to the Olympians. I only said that to boost your confidence.”

Draco visibly sighed with relief, “Thank Merlin! I spent the entire trip back from Tartarus worrying that I was going to be in deep trouble when you found out I’d broken Apollo’s mirror.”

“Don’t worry about it, Draco,” Asheera said. “It’s not like its some irreplaceable item. In fact, I know of at least a dozen identical mirrors belonging to other Atlantean families. I don’t know how closely you looked at it, but if you’d looked at the mirror, you would have seen the Lasinius family crest engraved on the top end of the frame. So, don’t worry about it, Draco. I know an extremely talented master artificer in Atlantis who will have no problem fixing it. I’m just glad that you managed to succeed.”

“So am I,” Draco said.

“Minerva?” Dumbledore asked with a twinkle in his eye. “Could you go and get Mr. Potter and Mr. Smith? I’m sure they’d both be very interested in where Mr. Malfoy has been today.”

“Of course, Albus,” McGonagall said as she stood and left the office.

* * *

Half-an-hour later, McGonagall returned to the Headmaster’s office with Aarik and Zacharias in tow. While she was off getting the two students, James, Lily, Narcissa, and Cedric came up to the Headmaster’s office through the Floo, after Madam Pomfrey had administered the Magic Restorative Draft to each of them and said they were free to go. The nurse would have come up as well, but she told Dumbledore that she was going to their quarters to lie down, as she was feeling a little faint after seeing the four people who were supposed to be dead.

Lily, James, Narcissa, and Cedric were now in a side room of the office so that Aarik and Zacharias could be filled in on what had happened and prepared for the inevitable shock of it.

“Ah, Mr. Potter, Mr. Smith,” Dumbledore said. “Glad you could make it.”

Noticing Draco sitting in the office, Aarik ran over and flung his arms around the blond, “Draco where have you been? I’ve been worried sick about you,” Aarik would have mentioned not being able to find Draco on his map, but as he didn’t want everyone to know about it, he said, “Alaric and the founders were all over the castle looking for you and they said they couldn’t find you anywhere.”

“I’m sorry, Aarik,” Draco said as he wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. “I was busy doing some last minute Christmas shopping.”

“Christmas shopping?” Aarik asked.

“Yeah Asheera took me to Atlantis,” Draco said with a smile. “While I was there, I decided to get Christmas gifts for both of us. I also got a gift for Zach, actually.”

“You got me a gift?” Zach asked. “Now I feel bad because I didn’t get you anything. I tried, but I figured what could I possibly get for the boy who already has too much of everything?”

Draco grinned, as did Zach, and Draco said, “Its okay, Zach. Nothing you could have gotten me could ever compare to what I got you. Well, assuming that is you like what I got you, I don’t know. The gifts I acquired today are not normal gifts. They were not bought in a store and they can’t be wrapped.”

“Why can’t they be wrapped?” Aarik asked, confused. “And what do you mean they weren’t bought in a store? Draco you didn’t steal them did you?”

“Aarik!” Draco exclaimed. “I’m insulted! Rule #71 of the Malfoy Code clearly states that Malfoys do not steal what doesn’t belong to them, without good reason at least. Of course, Rule #72 goes on to explain that good reason is trying to purchase it and having all offers rejected.”

“Your family is warped, Draco,” Aarik said with an affectionate smile.

“Yes, I know,” Draco drawled, “but its part of my charm.”

“True,” Aarik said as he kissed Draco on the cheek.

“Could we please get to the point?” Snape asked. “I can’t take much more of this lovey-dovey crap. There’s bound to be more, so can we please just get it over with already?”

“Yes, of course,” Dumbledore said. “Mr. Potter, Mr. Smith, you need to prepare yourselves for what will be the biggest shock of your young lives. I highly doubt that any shock you have ever experienced will compare to the one that you will receive in a few moments.”

“You’ve got me extremely curious, Professor,” Zach said. “I mean, finding out that I was Helga’s heir was a pretty big shock. Now you’re saying that I’ve got an even bigger one in store for me?”

“Yes, Zacharias, you do,” Sprout answered.

“Why do I get the feeling that everyone here, except for Zach and me, already knows what’s going on?”

“Because everyone else does, Potter,” Snape snapped. “Please try to keep up!”

“Now, now, Severus,” Dumbledore said. “Mr. Malfoy, would you like to do the honors?”

“Yes, Professor,” Draco said as he stood up, looked at Aarik and Zach and said, “As I said, I’ve gotten the three of us gifts that couldn’t be bought and can’t be wrapped. First off, Aarik, I want you to stay quiet. Part of my explanation is going to cause you great concern, but it’s over now and I’m okay, so please save your worried comments for later.”

Aarik looked at Draco curiously, but nodded, at which point Draco continued, “As you both know, Asheera is the Mistress of the Life Sphere in Atlantis, but she is also the High Priestess of the goddess Persephone. At Persephone’s temple in Atlantis, a magical tree, created by the goddess herself, blooms once every one thousand years, producing a single peach, which when eaten will transport the person who eats it to Tartarus, while still alive. The tree bloomed today and I ate the peach.”

“Tartarus?” Zach asked. “As in the Land of the Dead?”

“Yes, Zach,” Draco confirmed. “I’ve been to Tartarus and back. I risked my life today to give us all a gift to end all gifts. I challenged Death himself and won. I must say that I’m feeling quite proud of myself.”

“What did you challenge Death for?” Aarik asked. The concern when Draco said he had risked his life was evident on his face, but he was doing as Draco had asked and saving his concern for later, as hard as that may have been.

“The purpose of the peach that I ate is to allow a person to go to Tartarus and challenge the Lord of the Dead for the souls of up to four people who were sent to their deaths before their scheduled times; specifically if they were killed by the Killing Curse. If the challenger is successful, the Lord of the Dead will resurrect the claimed souls and all will be free to leave. If the challenger fails, the claimed souls remain dead and the challenger forfeits their own life.”

“So, you mean to say that you went to Tartarus,” Zach said, “and succeeded in challenging the Lord of the Dead for souls? I’m assuming that since you said this was a gift for all of us, that you claimed more then one soul, because I can’t think of a single dead person who would have a connection to all of us.”

“I thought magic couldn’t bring back the dead,” Aarik said. “That’s what I’ve always been told anyway.”

“That’s true to a point, Aarik,” Asheera explained. “It’s true that the arcane magic practiced by mortals cannot bring back the dead. However, the divine magic of the Olympian gods is an entirely different form of magic, which can do practically anything.”

In response to Zach’s question, Draco said, “Yes, I did claim more than one soul. In fact, I claimed four of them. One person very near and dear to myself, two people very near and dear to Aarik, and another person who I assume was near and dear to you, Zach.”

A light bulb went on in Aarik’s head when Draco said that and said, “Draco, are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“Yes, Aarik,” Draco said as he walked over to the door to the side room, opened it, and motioned for the people inside to come out. “I’ve brought back your parents, as well as my mum and Zach’s cousin Cedric.”

James, Lily, Cedric, and Narcissa exited the side room, looking as alive and well as if they had just come back from vacation, rather than being dead. Narcissa walked over to Draco, hugged him tightly and kissed him on the head. Aarik just sat there looking at his long dead mum and dad, the shock preventing him from moving. Zach slowly stood up and started walking towards Cedric. Cedric closed the distance between them and Zach asked, “Rick is that really you?”

“Yes, Zach, it is,” Cedric said with a grin. “Come here you little rug rat.”

Cedric and Zach hugged each other tightly. They may have been born two years apart, but they shared a birthday and had always been very close; much more like brothers than cousins.

“I can’t believe this,” Zach said as he pulled back a bit, but remained firmly in Cedric’s arms. “You’re alive and you haven’t changed a bit.”

“Can’t say the same for you,” Cedric said with a grin. “You’re taller then I remember and I see you got out of that awkward stage.”

Zach playfully punched Cedric in the shoulder for the comment.

“Well, that, Zach, is a side effect of having been dead,” Asheera revealed. “Souls do not age in Tartarus; they forever remain the age they were at their death. When Valshar resurrects claimed souls, he simply restores them to their mortal bodies; he does not make them the age they should be based on their birthday. So, while Cedric is technically 19 based on the year he was born, he’s actually only 17.”

Zach smiled and said, “Cool. We’re the same age now, Rick, so you can’t tell me to do things anymore simply because you’re older then me.”

“Damn,” Cedric said with a grin. “I always enjoyed doing that.”

Aarik, who had been staring silently at his parents, suddenly jumped up and lunged at Draco.

“Draco, you risked death for this?” Aarik asked.

“Yes, Aarik,” Draco replied. “I love you and when I found out I could bring back your parents, I knew I had to do it.”

Aarik must have really liked Draco’s answer, as the blond soon found himself being kissed more passionately then he had ever been kissed in his life, not that he was about to complain. Speaking of complaints, McGonagall would normally have had something to say about such a public display of affection between two students, but considering the circumstances, she remained quiet.

Aarik and Draco’s kiss was interrupted when Aarik felt a hand on his shoulder. Aarik turned his head and saw his mother, who was looking at him intently.

“Aarik, my darling boy, is that really you?” she asked in a soft voice.

Aarik was at a loss for words and simply nodded his head, as Lily let out a cry of what could only be described as joy, as she threw her arms around both Aarik and Draco and hugged them tightly. James came up behind his wife, looked at Draco for a long moment, and then asked, “I take it you are Lucius’ son?”

“Yes, sir, I am,” Draco answered. “A fact that I would change in a heartbeat if I could.”

“Now, Draco, is that anyway to talk about the man who gave you life?”

“Mother, with all due respect, Lucius doesn’t deserve my respect,” Draco said. “Nor does he deserve yours. He’s used the Cruciatus and Imperius on me more times then I can count or even care to remember. He also used the Killing Curse on you, so while I realize you must have loved him at some point to have married him, I don’t think he deserves any of your loyalty now.”

“Well, Draco, most of what you said is true,” Narcissa said.

“Most?” Draco asked.

“Yes, most,” Narcissa said. “Are you forgetting Rule #11 of the Malfoy Code, Draco? You remember, it says that all marriages are arranged at birth for social, monetary, or political gain, and not for love. I never loved your father and he never loved me. We were betrothed the second I was born, however, just as Bellatrix was betrothed to Rodolphus Lestrange from birth. Arranged marriages are just the way of the old pure-blood families.”

“So is a level of intermarriage that it borders on inbreeding,” Draco said. “That doesn’t make it right. Some of the pure-blood families aren’t even bordering on inbreeding anymore; they crossed that threshold years ago. The Nott family is a prime example. Many of the people in Slytherin know that Theodore is the product of a same-sex relationship, with his grandmother acting as the surrogate, but few people know the rest.”

“What do you mean the rest?” Aarik asked. “Does this having anything to do with why Nott got so angry when Adrian said he could think of a worse example of inbreeding in Slytherin then Crabbe and Goyle?”

Draco grimaced and it was obvious he was sickened by what he was about to say, “Yes, Nott is the worse example. Theodore’s fathers are brothers, who their mother forced to become a couple, when she was unable to find suitable pure-blooded wives for them. It says something very bad about the Wizarding world when two people with such a close familial connection can legally wed.”

“You won’t get any argument from me, Draco,” Narcissa said, as she along with many other people in the room, grimaced.

“Siblings can actually get married in the Wizarding world?” Aarik asked.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Draco said. “There’s an old law from about six hundred years ago that says if a pure-blood family is unable to find suitable pure-blooded wives for their children, that those children may marry each other in order to produce a legitimate heir to carry on the family name and bloodline.”

“That is bloody gross, Draco,” Aarik said.

“I agree, Aarik,” Draco said. “Godric really should be ashamed of himself for creating all of the pure-blood nonsense.”

“Godric?” Cedric asked. “As in Godric Gryffindor? Don’t you mean Salazar Slytherin?”

“No, Cedric,” Draco said. “You’ve been dead, so you wouldn’t know. In a nutshell, Godric and Salazar were married and had a son. Their son died, they both blamed each other for it and they both did things to get revenge on the other. Godric’s means of revenge was to amend the memories of the Sorting Hat so that it would malign Salazar’s memory with all the lies that spurred the purity of blood nonsense so common these days.”

“The truth of the matter is,” Aarik said, “and this comes from the lips of the founders’ portraits, so I’m inclined to believe it, there is no difference whatsoever between pure-bloods, half-bloods, or Muggle-borns. Magically, they’re all just as capable as the others.”

“Speaking of the founders,” Zach said. “Guess what, Rick?”

“What, Zach?”

“Hepzibah wasn’t as crazy as grandfather thought,” Zach answered. “We’re both Helga Hufflepuff’s heirs.”

Cedric laughed, thinking that Zach was kidding, but when he noticed that his cousin wasn’t laughing, he said, “You’re serious?”

“Yes, I am,” replied Zach. “I’ve talked with Helga’s portrait and I’m living in her private quarters here in the castle now.”

“Wow,” Cedric said. “Can I move in?”

“Of course,” Zach said. “I’d be offended if you didn’t. You’re only the best friend I’ve ever had. I swear if I didn’t love you like a brother, I’d want to shag your brains out.”

“Too much information, Mr. Smith,” Sprout said.

“Sorry, Professor,” Zach apologized.

“So, obviously things have changed while I’ve been dead,” Narcissa said, as she looked from Draco to Aarik and back at Draco. “Last time I checked, you hated Harry and now, well, your feelings have obviously changed, Draco.”

Lily bristled at the mention of the nickname and said, “Excuse me, Narcissa, but my son’s name is Aarik, not Harry.”

Narcissa and Cedric both looked a bit confused by that, so Aarik explained the truth about his name. Lily wasn’t very happy with Albus for legally changing her son’s name, but she understood why he did it. She was also happy to hear that Aarik was now using his given name.

“Anyway, to answer your question, mum,” said Draco, “I never really hated Aarik. I just acted like I did to please father so that he wouldn’t punish me. I stopped caring about pleasing him though when he killed you. I will admit that I have on occasion felt a bit jealous of Aarik, but that was tempered by ever deepening feelings for him since our fourth year.”

“Jealous?” Aarik asked. “Why were you jealous of me, Draco?”

“Well, I was sorted into Slytherin because of my ambition and my desire to make a name for myself; a name that people truly respect, rather than fearing. You basically got everything I want for myself at the age of one, due to circumstances very much out of your control.”

Aarik nodded and then said, “As for me, much like Draco, I don't think I ever really hated him; disliked him, yes, because quite honestly he was an insufferable prick for many years. However, since he witnessed your death, Mrs. Malfoy, I've been able to see a side of him that I doubt he's ever shown many people. It was probably mostly due to fear of what Lucius would do to him if he did. Draco has never even considered supporting Voldemort, but he never told his father that directly because he was afraid of what he would do. Rightfully so, I would say, considering the kind of man that Lucius is."

After a long silence, Draco and Aarik looked at each other for a moment and then at their respective parents before Aarik said, "I can only hope that my being with Draco is okay with you, mum and dad. I've spent years now often questioning things I've done or how I feel about certain things, wondering if the two of you would approve or not. Now that I actually have the chance to have your approval, I'm hoping that you'll approve of the person I've chosen to give my heart to, because if you don't, well, I'd rather not think about that."

Lily and James looked at one another for a few moments, before James spoke, "Draco, your love for our son must be great indeed for you to have undertaken death itself for our stead. I realize that you also saved your mother from death, but you didn't have to save me, Lily, or even Cedric, yet you did."

"That's where you're wrong, Mr. Potter, sir," Draco interrupted. "When I found out it was possible to get my mother back, I was definitely happy about it. However, what really made up my mind about doing what I did was my love for Aarik. I knew how much it would mean to him to have you and his mum back. I also knew how much he blamed himself when Voldemort had said, 'Kill the spare' two years ago in reference to Cedric. When I found out that I had the power to give you all another chance at life, I knew that I had to try. I knew that I would not be able to look at Aarik and know that I had the power to give him the greatest gift imaginable and not do it."

As Lily and James took time to digest Draco's words, Cedric broke the silence by saying, "Aarik, I want you to know that it wasn't your fault that I died and that if I'd been capable of remembering the circumstances of my death before now, I would never have blamed you for it."

“Am I correct in assuming that Cedric not being able to remember the circumstances of his death has something to do with the reverse Dementor effect that you mentioned, Asheera?” McGonagall asked.

“Yes, Minerva,” Asheera confirmed. “Cedric was murdered on Voldemort’s order and that, obviously, counted as a bad memory, so it was taken away when he died. Now that he’s back among the living, all of his bad memories are returning to him. It might take a few days, but they will all come back. That is one downside to saving souls from Tartarus, and I’d just like to take this opportunity to warn James, Lily, Cedric, and Narcissa that you may all be plagued by nightmares for a few nights, as all of your bad memories come back in force. With time, however, it’ll get better. Oh and I would not suggest using Dreamless Sleep potion, because you’ll only be postponing the inevitable – it’s probably best to get it over with as quickly as possible.”

Before anyone else could say anything, Lily cleared her throat and said, "Aarik, I know I can speak for your father, when I say that all we ever wanted was for you to be happy. It pains us both to know that you've had to deal with so much over the years, as you undoubtedly must have since the night that Voldemort killed us and tried to kill you. If it's not too painful, your father and I would really like the details of what has been happening since we died. However, we also want you to know that if being with Draco Malfoy makes you happy, then we not only accept and approve of it, we will be more then happy to accept him into our family with open arms."

"Draco, the same goes for me," Narcissa said. "If Aarik makes you happy then that is all I care about and I wish you both many, many long years of happiness together."

Aarik and Draco both began to cry tears of joy, as they pulled Lily, James and Narcissa into a hug. Once the hug ended, Cedric said, "Aarik, I'm not family, so my approval doesn't count as much, but I got to know you pretty well during the Tri-Wizard Tournament and I really have thought of you as a good friend these past two years that I've spent in Tartarus. Truth be told, being able to have nothing but good feelings and memories, I've developed a sort of crush on you, but I can see that you are totally committed to Draco, so I certainly am not going to come between that."

"You'd better not even try Cedric," Draco said with a grin. "Or you'll be on your way back to Tartarus so fast you won't know what hit you."

"Point very well taken, Draco," Cedric said, returning Draco's grin, before he noticed the smug look on Zach’s face and asked, “What are you looking so smug about?”

“Oh, it’s just that I was right,” answered Zach. “I always knew you were lying when you said you were straight, Rick.”

“Okay, Zach, you were right,” Cedric said, as the expression on Zach’s face got even smugger. “I’m bisexual, are you happy now that I admitted it?”

“Yes,” Zach said. “Now, we just need to find you someone. Just keep your thoughts away from one Thomas Byrne, he’s mine.”

Aarik groaned and said, “Looks like the Slytherin Ice Prince is right again,” as he pulled a small bag from the pocket of his robe, counted out five galleons and handed them to his boyfriend.

Draco nodded and this time it was his turn to look smug. “What can I say? I’m the master of the Slytherin betting pools. Oh, Blaise is going to hate this. He owes me another ten galleons.”

“Aarik, is that any way to talk about your boyfriend?” Lily asked. “Calling him the Slytherin Ice Prince?”

“He actually likes it, mum,” Aarik said as he kissed Draco on the cheek. “He fancies himself the Prince of Slytherin. The ice part comes from his pale skin, silver eyes, and blond hair. All of which I love.”

Draco smiled at Aarik, before looking at Lily, “He’s right, Mrs. Potter. I really don’t mind the title. In fact, I was the one who came up with it. Oh and Aarik? I love your green eyes and that untamable mop you call hair.”

Aarik grinned as he wrapped his arms around Draco and began to attack his neck. McGonagall spoke up this time and said, “That is quite enough, Mr. Potter. Mr. Malfoy, you’re a prefect, you should know better. Desist before I’m forced to take points.”

“Narcissa, is Draco a good student?”

“Yes, he is, Lily, why?”

“Oh, no reason,” Lily said. “It’s just that if I had any doubts before, I don’t anymore. Those two were made for each other.”

“Why is that, dear?” James asked with a smile.

“It’s like history repeating itself,” Lily said as she kissed James on the cheek. “Draco is the good student and prefect, while Aarik is the boy with glasses and untamable black hair who disregards the rules whenever possible.”

Dumbledore’s eyes were twinkling like mad, when he spoke up and said, “You’re quite right, Lily. Draco and Aarik share many similarities to you and James. It’s almost frightening.”

* * *

To be continued.


	32. Dreams Really Do Come True, Part Two

Harry Potter and the Return of the Heirs  
By J.C. Vascardi

* * *  
Chapter Twenty-Nine:  
Dreams Really Do Come True, Part Two  
* * *

Meanwhile in Gryffindor Tower, having no knowledge of anything that had transpired elsewhere that day, Ron and Hermione were talking about Aarik and Draco. Ron still could not wrap his head around the fact that Aarik actually liked Draco, not only as a friend, but also as a potential lover.

“What does he see in him?” Ron asked. “He’s always been a right git to all of us and now Harry wants to date him?”

“It’s Aarik, remember?” Hermione asked, knowing that it would be futile to try answering Ron's question. Anything she said would just go in one ear and right out the other, so honestly, what was the point?

“I know,” Ron said. “He’ll always be Harry to me though. I mean, that is how I have known him for six years. Calling him by another name is bloody hard to get used to. And Aarik sounds way too formal, if you ask me.”

Hermione nodded, having struggled with the change of name herself, “Yes, I admit, it’s been hard calling him something other than Harry, but Aarik is his name, we should make the effort.”

“That’s just it, Hermione,” Ron said. “It isn’t. He told us that Dumbledore had his name legally changed to Harry Potter after his parents died. Unless you know something that I don’t, he hasn’t gone to the Ministry and changed it back to Aarik.”

After a few moments of silence, Ron went back to his favorite pastime – maligning Draco Malfoy.

“I still don’t get it,” Ron said. “What does Harry see in him? Draco is an evil Slytherin bastard. He is just like his father. He does not care for anyone who is not a pureblood. We have to get Harry away from that git before he can deliver him to You-Know-Who.”

Hermione and Ron were not facing the fireplace, so they did not notice when it moved. Aarik quietly stepped into the room and asked, “Ron?”

Ron and Hermione turned to face Aarik, but before either of them could say anything, Ron felt pain shooting through his left cheek as Aarik’s fist connected with it. Caught of guard, Ron stumbled and fell to his knees as he clutched his cheek and looked at Aarik as if he had gone crazy.

“Harry!” Hermione admonished, so caught off guard that she forgot to use Aarik herself.

“Ron, if I ever hear you talk about Draco like that again, I swear I’ll kill you!”

Ron looked mutinously at Aarik as he stood and asked, “Harry, what has that bloody ferret done to you?”

“It’s not what he’s done to me,” Aarik answered, “but what he’s done _for_ me. He has just given me the best gift I could ever have gotten and if I had any doubts before that I was head over heels for him, I certainly do not anymore. He’s a permanent staple in my life, so if you want to continue to be my friend Ron, I suggest you get used to it.”

“What kind of a gift?” Hermione asked, obviously curious what Aarik would consider the best gift he could have ever gotten.

“Well, Hermione, Ron, come into Godric’s quarters and see for yourselves,” Aarik said. “I’m tempted to ban you from Godric’s quarters permanently, after what I just heard you say, Ron, but I won’t. I want you to see what Draco has given me with your own eyes, because I want to see you eat crow for thinking he’s just like his father, which couldn’t be further from the truth.”

Ron seriously doubted that there was a gift that Draco could give Aarik that would prove to him that Draco was not a carbon copy of Lucius Malfoy and a Junior Death Eater. However, out of respect for his years of friendship with Aarik, he decided to keep his mouth shut for now.

Following Aarik into Godric’s quarters, Ron and Hermione gasped when they saw two people sitting on the sofa in front of the fireplace. They instantly recognized them from the pictures in the photo album that Hagrid had given Aarik – James and Lily Potter – Aarik’s dead parents. They also could not help but notice Draco sitting in a nearby armchair next to another person who they recognized from the picture that had accompanied her obituary in the _Daily Prophet_ as being Narcissa Malfoy.

After several moments of silence, Hermione found her voice and asked, “Harry is this some kind of joke?”

“No, Hermione.”

“They look like,” Hermione said, “but they can’t be, they’re dead.”

“Not anymore,” Aarik said. “Draco went to Atlantis with Asheera. Turns out in addition to being a member of the Circle, she is also the High Priestess of Persephone. To make a long story short, Draco risked his life today to go to Tartarus and challenge Death himself for the souls of his mother, my parents, and Cedric.”

“What?” Ron asked, clueless and beyond confused, of course, considering the circumstances, one could not really blame him for that.

At that point, Aarik launched into the explanation that Draco had given him in Dumbledore’s office, adding the information he had been present to hear Asheera add. When he finished, both Ron and Hermione were slack jawed for a moment.

“It has to be a trick,” Ron said after a minute. “Draco is a Slytherin; he wouldn’t risk his life for anything, except maybe his clothes.”

“Ron,” Aarik started, but the redhead cut him off.

“No, Harry, listen to me,” Ron said. “It just doesn’t make any sense. I know you think that Draco has changed, but he was a right little git to us for five years. He did everything he could to get us into trouble, make Gryffindor lose points, and generally make our lives miserable. He loved calling Hermione a Mudblood and making fun of me and my family because we did not have a lot of money. He’s just like his father, this has to be a trick - it just has to be.”

“Ron, Professor Dumbledore already checked,” Aarik said. “He wanted to be certain that his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him and they weren’t. Are you going to say that Draco is capable of performing magic that can fool Professor Dumbledore? Remember, he can see through my invisibility cloak for Merlin’s sake.”

“So, you did get it,” James said. “I’m glad. I left it to Albus in my will, with the request that he keep it safe and give it to you when you started Hogwarts.”

“Yeah, I got it,” Aarik said. “It was one of the very first Christmas gifts I ever got.”

“What?” Lily asked. “You didn’t get your first Christmas gift until after you started at Hogwarts?”

“Nope,” Aarik answered his mother. “Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were not exactly happy to be stuck taking care of me, so they never gave me anything that Dudley hadn’t outgrown or broke.”

“Vernon and Petunia?” James asked. “Why did Vernon and Petunia raise you? Sirius is your godfather.”

“True, but it was thought that Azkaban wasn’t the proper place to raise a child,” Aarik answered. “In retrospect, I would have preferred being raised at Azkaban with Sirius. It would have been better than my life with the Dursleys by far.”

“Did they mistreat you?” Lily asked.

“Well, my bedroom since they took custody of me until I started Hogwarts was a cupboard under the stairs,” Aarik answered. “I didn’t know that I was a wizard until I got my Hogwarts letter. They told me that you’d died in a car crash and basically treated me like their own personal house-elf.”

“I’ll kill her,” Lily said immediately. “I swear I’ll kill her! How dare Petunia treat my son like that? When I’m through with her she’s going to wish she was never born!”

“Calm down, Lily,” James said as he rubbed his wife’s shoulders. “I agree that they need to be punished, but I think killing them is a bit extreme. Our son just got us back in his life, let’s not go out and kill your sister and end up in Azkaban, huh?”

Lily calmed down under James’ touch, as she always did. After a moment, she nodded and said, “Yes, you’re right, of course.”

“Now, why was Sirius in Azkaban?” James asked.

Aarik explained what happened to his parents, during which time Ron and Hermione watched in silence. Hermione got a strange expression on her face after a moment and Aarik soon asked, “What’s wrong Hermione?”

“Nothings wrong, per se,” Hermione said. “It’s just odd watching you interact with your parents. You’re sixteen and your parents aren’t much older, Aarik, it’s a weird-looking sight, is all.”

Aarik looked at James and Lily and for the first time, he realized that Hermione was right. He hadn’t thought about it until now, but he suddenly remembered what Asheera had said about souls not aging in Tartarus and realized that his parents were now only a few years older than him.

“James and I were twenty-one years old when we died,” Lily commented. “I suppose we are much too young now to have a sixteen-year-old son. Would you prefer it if we treated you like a brother, Aarik?”

“No,” Aarik said with no hesitation. “Honestly, I don’t care how old you are. I went fifteen years without you and I’ll be damned if I’m going to go another second without you just because you didn’t age while you were dead.”

“Am I the only one in the room who finds this entire conversation strange?” Ron asked.

“No, Weasley,” Draco drawled, as he spoke up for the first time. “It is very strange, but there’s not much we can really do about it, so why dwell on it?”

“You really risked your life to bring back your mum and Harry’s parents?” Ron asked.

“They’re here, aren’t they?” Draco asked in response.

Ron nodded and stayed quiet for a moment before he said, “I wonder how mum will react? I’m sure she’s going to feel like she’s losing a son now, because she’s always thought of you as her seventh son, Harry.”

“Ron, it’s Aarik,” Aarik said.

“I knew you as Harry for over five years,” Ron said. “It’s hard to change what I call you just like that.”

“As much as it pains me to hear that nickname,” Lily said, “I can certainly understand where Ron is coming from, Aarik. I suppose that since Dumbledore did legally change your name, you do not have to use Aarik if you do not want to. I’ll continue to use it, of course, because I refuse to call you Harry, but if you prefer it, you’re welcome to continue using it.”

“Personally, I always liked Harry,” James interjected. “I thought Aarik was a bit too formal, but I respected Lily’s desire to name you after her late cousin.”

“Well, I am used to Harry,” Aarik said after a moment of silence. “However, I’m also honored to have been named after mum’s cousin,” Aarik smiled at Lily, who smiled back. “I’ll have to think about which name I prefer.”

“Well, Aarik,” Narcissa said, “I see no reason why you can’t use both. You can honor Lily’s cousin by doing good things for others, whether you use his name or not. It is not one’s name, but their actions, that truly matter.”

* * *

Meanwhile, in Helga Hufflepuff’s quarters, Zach was sitting in the common room with Cedric, getting him up to date on everything that had happened over the last two years that he had spent in Tartarus. Zach had wanted to introduce Cedric to Tom, but Tom wasn’t there. Helga was in her frame, though, and she was delighted beyond words by the chance to meet another one of her heirs – especially one that had returned from the dead.

“What is it like in Tartarus?” Helga asked. “I must admit, I’ve been pretty curious. As a portrait, I can live forever, but my body wasn’t as lucky, so I’ve been wondering what the afterlife is like.”

“Well, when you die you first go to Limbo,” Cedric explained. “It’s where your soul is judged. The good go to Tartarus, the neutral stay in Limbo, and the evil go to one of the Nine Hells. While waiting for judgment in Limbo, souls go through what I guess you could call an orientation. Basically you’re told all about the places you could end up and reasons why you might be judged worthy of spending eternity there.”

“Interesting,” Helga said. “Please, go on.”

“Yeah, Rick,” said Zach. “This is actually kind of nice, because maybe if I know a bit more of what to expect, I won’t fear death so much.”

“Well, it’s nice not to fear it,” Cedric said, “just so long as you don’t come to prefer it over life. I admit, I did enjoy my time in Tartarus, but I definitely do not mind being alive again. Anyway, Tartarus is split into two sections: The Charred Realms and The Palace of the Dead. All souls judged as being good go to Tartarus, but which section of Tartarus they end up in all depends on how they lived their life while they were alive. If they died with things left unfinished, they remain in the Charred Realms, which is not exactly a pleasant place to spend eternity.

“The Charred Realms, as the name suggests, are like a burnt world. Everything is blackened and devoid of life. It is a very depressing place to be and depression is a bad thing when you are dead, because if you become too depressed you will end up losing your mind and becoming one of the Lost. That means different things depending on the plane you’re on, but in the Charred Realms of Tartarus, it means becoming a zombie, forced to wander the Charred Realms for eternity.”

Zach thought Cedric must be kidding and started laughing. After a moment, he said, “Good one, Rick.”

Cedric, however, was not laughing. He had a very serious look on his face as he said, “I’m not kidding, Zach. I’m deathly serious and having been dead, I’m sort of an expert on deathly matters.”

Zach composed himself and said, “I’m sorry, Rick. I just thought you had to be kidding.”

“Zach, I would never kid around about something as serious as death. I know some people might like to kid around about it, but having actually experienced it, I’ve lost any desire to do so.”

Zach nodded after a moment and said, “Okay, Rick, I understand. I have never really thought of death as a joking matter myself, especially after you died, because I missed you like crazy. I know we are only cousins and we were born two years apart, but when you died, I honestly felt like a part of me had died along with you. So, I’m definitely glad to have you back.”

At this point, Zach got up from the chair he was sitting in, walked over to Cedric’s chair and curled up in his cousin’s lap, hugging the older boy fiercely as he buried his forehead in Cedric’s neck. Cedric wrapped his arms around his cousin and soon began to rub Zach’s back.

Helga smiled at the boys and decided to give them a few minutes alone. Just as she slipped out of her frame, the portrait of William Hufflepuff opened to admit another into the room. Of course, William’s portrait never did get the chance to close, because as soon as Tom saw Zach in the arms of another person, tears came to his eyes, and he ran from the room.

* * *

Molly and Arthur Weasley were worried when Professor Dumbledore Floo-called them at the Burrow and told them to drop everything and come to Hogwarts immediately. Of course, the worry they felt was not lessened at all by the fact that the Headmaster was being his normal mysterious self. He simply told them to come to Hogwarts and everything would be explained when they got there. The old man simply grinned, his eyes twinkling like mad, and refused to give them any more details.

Of course, the Weasleys were not the only ones to get the urgent request from the Headmaster, as Amos and Hannah Diggory had also been asked to drop everything and come to Hogwarts post haste. Unlike Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, however, the Diggorys were not worried as much as they were bewildered by the request, as they could not understand what could possibly be so important. The only family member they had attending Hogwarts was their nephew Zacharias, but why contact them if there was a problem? Surely, the Headmaster would have contacted Hannah’s brother Isaiah and his wife Katherine if there were a problem with their son.

Professor Dumbledore was, in fact, a very busy man this afternoon, because after contacting Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and Mr. and Mrs. Diggory, he also contacted Remus Lupin, as well as Percy, Fred, and George Weasley. He had been tempted to place a Floo-call to Romania and ask Charlie to come home, but he was fresh out of International Floo Powder and decided to send an owl instead. The only people that Dumbledore didn’t contact who could be considered an interested party were Mr. and Mrs. Vernon Dursley, but that was at Lily’s request, as she wanted to deal with her sister and brother-in-law personally.

An hour passed and soon the Headmaster’s guests were all sitting in plush chintz armchairs in his office, as the Headmaster peered at them from over his half-moon spectacles. Finally, the silence became too much for her and Molly Weasley asked, “Albus, what is going on? You tell Arthur and me to drop everything and then I show up here to find out you have invited my entire family, Remus, and two of my neighbors. And now you’re just sitting there being annoyingly silent!”

Dumbledore grinned and said, “I apologize, Molly. I have just been trying to figure out the best way to tell you the news that I have for all of you. It is certainly something that I never imagined myself having to tell anyone, as it involves something that up until recently I thought was utterly impossible. One would think that in my century and a half on this planet that I would have learned that nothing is impossible, but oh well, even old men like me can learn new things I guess.”

“No offense, Albus, but will you please get to the point?” Amos asked. “Being in this school brings back a lot of memories of Cedric and it makes both my wife and me very sad.”

“Well, Amos, your sadness is soon to end,” said Dumbledore, as Corelian and Asheera entered the room. “Ah, may I present Lord Corelian and Lady Asheera Laitannen, our guests from Atlantis. I trust you’ve all read about the fact that Atlantis still exists in the _Daily Prophet_?”

“I don’t know about Remus and the Diggorys,” Percy said, “but I hand-delivered copies of the paper to my parents and brothers.”

“That doesn’t mean that...” Fred started.

“...we actually read it,” George finished.

Percy looked at Fred and George for a moment and soon noticed the hint of mischievousness in the corners of their eyes and knew that they actually had read it, regardless of what they said. They just loved to be difficult, especially when it came to Percy.

“What do you mean our sadness is soon to end?” Hannah asked. “Albus, unless you’ve brought us here to tell us that there’s been a mistake and Cedric is still alive, which we all know is impossible, then there’s nothing you can say that will end Amos’ and my sadness.”

Corelian smiled at Hannah and said, “Mrs. Diggory, in the words of my wise beyond his years brother-in-law, Hogwarts Fencing Professor Valen Lasinius, nothing is impossible - improbable yes, but not impossible.”

“Could we please stop beating around the bush and get to the point?” Remus asked. “Albus, I’m sure there’s a reason you asked us all to drop everything and come here today, so perhaps it would be best to just get on with it.”

“Quite right, Remus,” Dumbledore said with a smile. “The reason I asked all of you to come here today has to do with something that young Mr. Draco Malfoy did earlier today with the assistance of Lady Asheera. This may come as a bit of shock and I’m sure you’ll think that I’m both crazy and lying, but Narcissa Malfoy, Cedric Diggory, and James and Lily Potter are no longer dead.”

Silence ensued for several moments, before finally, Amos Diggory stood up, a look of fury on his face, and he shouted, “Albus, I do not appreciate you telling me to drop everything and come here just so that you can sit there and lie to me!”

“He’s not lying, Dad,” Cedric said as the door to the adjoining room opened and Cedric stepped into the room. “As you can see, I’m not dead. I was, but I’m not anymore.”

“Is this some kind of sick joke?” Hannah asked refusing to look at what she thought must be an imposter and keeping her gaze firmly on Dumbledore. “Albus, why? Why would you bring us here and try to make us think that our son is still alive? We both saw the body, along with many, many other people. We had a funeral and we buried him. Do you take some kind of sick pleasure in torturing us?”

With the door to the adjoining room now wide open, Remus Lupin’s heightened werewolf senses kicked in and he cocked his head to one side as two very familiar scents hit his nostrils. There was no mistaking them, because he knew both of them very well. Speaking up, Remus said, “Albus isn’t lying.”

“What?” Amos asked. “He has to be.”

“No, he isn’t,” Remus said. “As I’m sure you both know, I’m a werewolf and my sense of smell is much greater then a normal human’s. When Cedric opened the door – and I am fairly certain it is Cedric, as I was his fifth-year Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and I vaguely remember his scent – I caught a whiff of two other very familiar scents that I could not possibly mistake or forget. James? Lily? Is that really you?”

Cedric stepped aside and now James and Lily Potter stepped out of the next room, followed shortly thereafter by Narcissa Malfoy, as well as Aarik and Draco.

“Hello Remus, my friend,” James said as he walked over to the werewolf, who quickly stood up. Being this close to him, there was no mistake in Remus’ mind – this was definitely James Potter. Remus flung his arms around his best friend and hugged him for a minute, before pulling back and saying, “I can’t believe you’re alive! And you haven’t changed one bit.”

“I can’t say the same for you,” James said with a smile. “You’ve definitely gotten older.”

“Yes, James, dear,” Lily said, “but we have to remember we’ve been dead for sixteen years. It’s only natural that Remus is going to look older then we remember him.”

“Lily, you’re definitely a sight for sore eyes,” Remus said as he pulled Lily into a hug.

“James and Lily Potter... alive... Albus, how is this possible?” Molly asked.

“Would you care to do the honors, Asheera?” Dumbledore asked.

“It would be my pleasure, Albus,” Asheera answered as she launched into explanation mode for the, well, she had lost count how many times she had explained now. She was beginning to consider magically recording her voice so that she would not have to repeat herself again.

“So, it’s really you, Ced?” Amos asked.

Cedric winced at his father’s use of that infernal nickname. He had never told his father before he died, but he had always hated being called Ced. This was now the first time in two years that he’d heard or even so much as thought about the nickname – he’d hated it so much when he was alive that it had actually counted as one of the bad memories that Valshar had taken away.

“Yeah, Dad, it’s me,” Cedric said, at which point both Amos and Hannah rushed forward and pulled their son into a tight hug. Too tight, actually, as Cedric soon slapped his father on the arm to get his attention and choked out, “Mum, Dad, AIR!”

Amos and Hannah immediately loosened their grip, as obviously neither one of them relished the thought of asphyxiating their recently returned from the dead son and having to bury him all over again.

“Oh, Ced, my boy,” Amos said, with tears in his eyes. “I cannot even begin to tell you how much I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” Cedric said. “But I do have one request.”

“Anything, son,” Hannah said.

“Please, for the love of Merlin, stop calling me Ced!” Cedric exclaimed. “I’ve always hated that nickname with a passion. I prefer to be called Cedric or Rick.”

“Of course, Cedric,” Amos said. “I’m just so happy to have you back.”

“Mr. Diggory,” Dumbledore said and when both Amos and Cedric turned to look at the Headmaster, he specified, “Cedric, I’ve been meaning to talk to you. When you died, you had almost completed your sixth year. I have talked with the rest of the staff and they would like you to join in on their sixth-year classes. It will mean repeating some material and possibly more summer homework than normal, but after two years of being in Tartarus, I imagine a little refresher course before taking your final exams would not be a bad thing.”

“I agree, Professor,” Cedric said. “Of course, I don’t have a wand, as I imagine mum and dad adhered to the Wizarding tradition of burying it with me. I imagine it’s probably got a bad case of wood rot by now.”

“Don’t worry, son,” Hannah said. “We’ll take you to Ollivander’s and buy you a new wand. Oh, Merlin, I’m just so happy to have you back!”

At this point, Hannah started to hug Cedric again and started to kiss him all over his face, prompting him to groan and say, “Mum, I’m happy to be back, but please stop it, you’re embarrassing me.”

Percy, George, and Fred Weasley all had looks on their faces which clearly said that they sympathized with Cedric right now – probably having been embarrassed much like he was being now by their own mother.

Molly, Narcissa and Lily laughed when Cedric said that and then Molly said, “That’s part of a mother’s job description, Cedric, sorry.”

“Speaking of wands,” James said, “Cedric isn’t the only one who will have to visit with Mr. Ollivander. I’m sure Lily’s and my wands must have even worse cases of wood rot then Cedric’s does by now.”

“I’m sure that Mr. Ollivander will be pleased to sell you all new wands,” Dumbledore said. “I imagine you’ll need a new one as well, Mrs. Malfoy?”

“Probably,” Narcissa answered. “True, I was only in Tartarus a few months, so I doubt my wand has started rotting, but getting it would probably be dangerous. I’m sure the manor is crawling with Death Eaters and getting into the Malfoy mausoleum could be problematic.”

“We were already in the mausoleum a few months ago,” Draco said. “I led a group there to free a student that Voldemort has been holding prisoner, but I agree. Getting in again might be problematic, because I’m sure by now that even if Voldemort doesn’t know anything, Lucius has to know that I was in the manor. I’m sure he’s changed the wards by now so that they won’t respond to me and the place is crawling with Death Eaters, so it would definitely be dangerous.”

“Well, then, I shall make arrangements for Mr. Ollivander to bring a selection of wands here for you to try,” Dumbledore said. “I would just have you go to Diagon Alley and get them, but, seeing as how the four of you are supposed to be dead, I imagine that going to such a public place wouldn’t be a good idea. At least until we figure out how to tell the rest of the world that you’ve all come back from the dead.”

“That’ll certainly be interesting, to see how everyone reacts,” Cedric said. “Though, Headmaster, if I may, I’d like to ask that we hold off on that until after the New Year. I’d like to have some time alone with my family to celebrate the holidays, without the press hounding me.”

“I agree with Cedric,” Lily said. “I’ve missed so much of Aarik’s life, and I too would like to have at least a week of peaceful time to catch up with him.”

“That is understandable,” Dumbledore said with a smile.

“Lily, James, I’m glad you’re back,” Molly said. “Arthur and I have done our best to be good surrogate parents to Aarik; heavens know that his aunt and uncle don’t know how to treat him.”

“We know,” James said. “Lily and I have a plan on that front. When we’re through with Vernon and Petunia, they’re going to wish they were never born.”

“If you need any...” Fred started.

“...stock from Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes...” George continued.

“...it’s yours – free of charge,” Fred finished, before the twins gave a quick explanation of the types of items they sold.

“Thank you, Fred, George,” Lily said with an evil grin on her face. “We’ll keep that in mind.”

* * *

Alone in Godric’s quarters, Aarik called out, “Dobby!”

“Yes, Harry Potter, sir?” Dobby asked, as he popped in.

“I need your help, Dobby.”

“Dobby always happy to help Harry Potter,” Dobby said.

“Well, first off, Dobby, have you heard the news?”

“If you are meaning what Master Draco did, yes. All house elves is talking about it.”

“Well, you know that Draco and I are a couple, right?”

“Yes, Harry Potter, sir, Dobby knows.”

“Well, after what he did for me,” Aarik said, “I want to thank him. I need your help with a romantic dinner for two. I was hoping that since you worked for the Malfoy family, you’d know what some of Draco’s favorite foods are.”

“Yes, Dobby knows that. Master Draco very much likes anything chocolate. He have big sweet tooth.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed,” Aarik said with a grin. “What about a main course?”

“Master Draco liked many of foods house-elves at Manor made,” Dobby said. “Always liked honey ham with baked pineapple and cherries. Was served with mashed potatoes and vegetables. Master Lucius frowned on it, but Master Draco liked potatoes with cheddar and bacon pieces in them.”

“Sounds good to me, Dobby,” Aarik said. “Could you arrange for that as dinner for Draco and me, at say six this evening in Godric’s dining room?”

“Of course, Harry Potter, sir.”

“A decadant chocolate cake for dessert,” Aarik said. “I know you can’t get alcohol, since Draco and I are underage, but could you get a couple bottles of sparkling cider?”

“Yes.”

“I also need candles and roses,” Aarik said, “for both the dining room and the master bedroom. Oh, and some fresh strawberries with bowls of whipped cream and chocolate sauce, would be nice.”

“Yes, Harry Potter, sir. Dobby will make all preparations. Hope Harry Potter and Master Draco have a good evening.”

After Dobby popped out, Aarik said softly, “I’m sure we will.”

A moment later, the portrait swung open and Zacharias came into the room, a distraught look on his face.

“Something wrong, Zach?” Aarik asked.

“Have you seen Tom?” Zach asked. “I can’t find him anywhere and I’m getting worried.”

“No, I haven’t seen him,” Aarik said, “but I’m sure he’s fine.”

“That’s just it,” Zach said. “I know he isn’t. William Hufflepuff told me that he came into Helga’s quarters earlier and left almost immediately. He said he was clearly very upset and in tears when he left.”

“Why would he be crying?”

“I’m not sure,” Zach said. “I have to find him, Aarik, I just have to.”

“You really like him, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do,” Zach answered. “I know we haven’t known each other very long, but there’s just something about him. We were friends almost immediately and we were both attracted to each other.”

“Well, let’s see if we can find him then,” Aarik said as he pulled the Marauder’s Map, which all of the heirs know knew about, from his pocket, unfolded it on the coffee table and said, “I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good.”

The lines of the map quickly drew themselves and Zach and Aarik began searching the castle for the little marker that would tell them where Tom was. After a moment, Aarik pointed and said, “There he is – the bell tower. I found Draco crying their once – what is it with that tower and crying people?”

“Nobody ever really goes up there,” Zach answered. He was already on his feet and halfway to the portrait hole when he looked over his shoulder and said, “Thanks, Aarik.”

“No problem, Zach,” Aarik called out after the blond’s retreating form.

* * *

Tom arrived in the Hogwarts bell tower, so upset that he felt impervious to the chilled winds blowing around him and did not bother to cast a Warming Charm. Suddenly, unable to breath, he dropped to his knees. His chest felt like a stampede of elephants was running over it and the hot sting of tears burned his eyes. He soon buried his face in his hands and allowed the waves of heartache to consume him.

“You were a fool to ever think somebody could love you,” a cold and cruel voice said in Tom’s head. It sounded very much like Voldemort, but Tom knew that was not possible. It’s just that the voice was what he’d come to associate with pain, so, now feeling like his heart had been ripped to shreds, it was only natural that he’d hear that voice.

Tom had endured years of pain and torture at Voldemort’s hands – more than half a century of it – and yet the pain he felt now was worse than anything he had ever felt while he was a prisoner of that devil. In the short time that he had been back at Hogwarts, Tom had worked hard at learning to trust people. Now it seemed like that had been a bad idea because the person that Tom had trusted with his heart now appeared to not be worthy of that trust.

Of course, a small voice in the back of his head was telling him that he was overreacting – Zach was only hugging someone. Of course, it was a very cute someone and perhaps that is what got to Tom. Fifty-some-odd years ago, he had dated Ryan’s grandmother, Lucinda Malfoy, and he had certainly loved her, but when they broke up, by mutual agreement, it was not a female student Tom directed his attentions to. Following Lucinda, Tom had a relationship with one of his dorm mates, Blake Avery. Of course, Tom had his heart broken because he put everything he had into his relationship with Blake, heart, mind, and soul, only to find him in bed with the very cute Douglas Avery, Blake’s second cousin. Therefore, seeing Zach in the arms of another person brought back many bad memories that Tom had blocked out for many years.

Tom was sobbing so hard that he did not hear anybody entering the room. Seeing Tom crouching on the floor, shaking and sobbing, Zach’s heart ached as it had only once before – the night that he found out about Cedric’s death.

“Tom?” Zach asked softly.

“Go away!” Tom shouted. “I don’t want to talk to you!”

“Tom, please,” Zach said. “Don’t shut me out, why are you crying?”

Tom did his best to pull himself together and stood as he wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his robe. When he turned to face Zach, his eyes were red from crying, but there was several emotions dancing through his eyes, including sadness and anger.

“Don’t stand there and act like you don’t know,” Tom said in a low voice.

“Honestly, I don’t!” Zach exclaimed. “All I know is what William told me. He opened to admit you to Helga’s quarters and you ran out with tears in your eyes seconds later. Tom, will you please, tell me what is wrong? I know we haven’t known each other long, but I love you and seeing you cry is tearing me up inside.”

“You love me?” Tom asked, his tone indicating that he did not believe it. “Yeah, right, I guess that’s why you sought comfort in someone else’s arms the second my back was turned. It was like seeing Blake and Douglas in bed together all over again.”

“What?” Zach asked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! Who are Blake and Douglas? Tom, I love you, honestly, I do. You are the first and only person I have ever kissed or even so much as dated! You’re the only person I want and I am not about to turn to anyone else.”

“Liar!” Tom yelled. “I saw you in his arms! I saw you! So don’t stand there and deny it, Zacharias!”

Thinking back on the events of the evening, Zach realized that Tom must have walked into Helga’s quarters when he was straddling Cedric’s lap, hugging him. Zach had not been sure what might have made Tom cry, but he did suspect that might have been the reason, he just did not want to bring it up unless Tom confirmed it. He was suddenly very happy that he had run into Cedric on the way to the bell tower, as the older boy was now waiting outside the room.

“Tom, it’s not what you think,” Zach said. “The bloke you saw me hugging was my cousin! While it is true that I may have harbored the occasional fantasy about him, I would never, ever act on any of them. I’m not about to give up on what I feel we have together to pursue an incestuous relationship with my Uncle Amos and Aunt Hannah’s son.”

“Uncle Amos and Aunt Hannah?” Tom asked, as he recognized the names from what Zach had told him when they were discussing their families. “You told me they only had one son and that Voldemort killed him two years ago. What was his name? Richard or something?”

“No, it’s Cedric,” Zach answered. “He likes to be called Rick for short though. And you’re right; I did tell you that he was dead, because he was.”

After years of straining to hear the tiniest of noises that might suggest that Voldemort was coming to torture him again, Tom’s hearing was exceptionally good and he easily noticed the stress that Zach had given the word was. Almost as if Zach was trying to say that Cedric had been dead, but he was not anymore, which was a completely ludicrous excuse and Tom voiced as much to Zach.

“I know it seems hard to believe,” Cedric, who had been standing outside the door, listening, said as he entered. “But, I really am Cedric Jeremiah Diggory, Zach’s before today dead cousin.”

“Do you think I’m a bloody idiot?” Tom asked. “Maybe you think all of those years that I spent as Voldemort’s prisoner, getting tortured, made me stupid. I assure you, it did not. I may not have been the best student in my year, but I certainly was not the worst. I like to think I am an intelligent person and if you think for one minute that I am going to stand here and believe the cock and bull story you have concocted, you are sadly mistaken. You cannot be Cedric Diggory, because Cedric Diggory is dead and while magic can do many things, bringing back the dead as anything but an Inferi is not one of them. So, since you are clearly not an Inferi, you are either not Cedric Diggory, or you actually are and your death is just one more thing that Zach has lied to me about.”

“Tom, I swear by Merlin’s beard that I am not lying!” Zach said. “I have never lied to you, ever! This really is Cedric and he really was dead and gone before today. Lady Asheera helped Draco go to Tartarus and challenge the Lord of the Dead for the souls of four people. Cedric is one of the people that Draco chose to bring back, along with his mum and Aarik’s parents, James and Lily Potter. Ask Professor Dumbledore if you do not believe me! As unbelievable as it may seem, he will confirm that I am telling you the truth. And I know that you are smart enough to know that no seventeen-year-old wizard like me could use any magical trickery to make Dumbledore say something is true when it isn’t.”

Tom was silent for several minutes as he digested this information. He did not think that Zach would tell him to talk to Professor Dumbledore about this if he was lying through his teeth. It would not make any sense, because it would only delay the inevitable and Tom would know that Zach was lying as soon as he talked to Dumbledore. This thought led Tom to believe that, as unbelievable as it sounded, Cedric having been dead and now not being dead was a statement of truth. Tom was somewhat of an expert on things that seemed impossible. He was, after all, supposed to be turning seventy in a few days and yet, here he was still a young and vibrant sixteen-year-old boy.

“Tom, will you please say something?” Zach asked. “Please tell me that you believe me.”

“You’re serious?” Tom asked in response. “This really is Cedric, back for the dead?”

“Yes,” Cedric said. “I really did spend the last two years in Tartarus, as dead as a doornail as Dickens put it.” Cedric gave a weak smile, as he was trying to inject some small bit of humor into the otherwise very serious atmosphere.

Tom flung himself into Zach’s arms and hugged him tightly. “Oh, Zach, I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. It is just that I had my heart broken by my first boyfriend and after so many years of Voldemort telling me that I am a worthless waste of skin, I guess I started to believe him. I thought that maybe I really wasn’t worthy of anyone’s love and that it was only natural that you’d be cheating on me with someone.”

“I swear to you, Tom, you’re the only one I want,” Zach said. “I’m not going to pretend that it will always be that way, because we are both still young and it’s possible our feelings could change. We have not known each other very long, after all, but I would never cheat on anybody that I was with. If my feelings for someone changed, I would sit down with that person and exhaust all possible avenues of rectifying the problem and if that didn’t work, then and only then would I break up with them, but I would never, ever cheat on anybody.”

“I know, that’s one of things I like about you, Zach,” Tom said. “You’re so loyal. I guess that must be a family trait, since you are Helga’s direct descendant. It is just that I saw you in Cedric’s arms and my mind flashed back to my first boyfriend, Blake, and I think that is what really caused me to break down. Blake was the first male I had allowed myself to be with. I knew for a while before that that I was bisexual, but, I grew up in a Muggle orphanage, so, I thought it was wrong for two people of the same gender to be together, because many Muggles think that it is. Therefore, I suppressed the feelings and pursued only girls. Blake was the first boy I let myself feel anything for and I fell head over heels in love with him, only to find him in bed with his second cousin, Douglas. That hurt me and the thought that it was happening all over again was just too much for me to deal with.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Zach said as he hugged Tom. “You truly have experienced too much pain in your life and I intend to do everything I can to minimize any future pain life decides to throw at you.”

“You mentioned being Voldemort’s prisoner and being tortured,” Cedric said. “How long were you his prisoner?”

“This is going to sound crazy,” Tom said with a grin, “but considering where you’ve spent the last two years, I think you are probably well equipped to believe just about anything.”

“Yeah, that’s probably true,” Cedric said. “Not many people can say that they’ve come back from the dead.”

“No, they can’t,” Tom said. “In truth, during my imprisonment, there were many times that I wished that I was dead, because I felt it would be a vast improvement over my life as it was. To answer your question, Cedric, I was Voldemort’s prisoner for fifty-four years.”

“Fifty-four years?” Cedric asked. “How old are you?”

“He’s sixteen, almost seventeen,” Zach said. “Though, like you, Rick, he technically should be older based on when he was born. You should be nineteen, but since you did not age in Tartarus, you are only seventeen. Tom was under the influence of a Dark Arts spell during his imprisonment that left him frozen in time. Based on when he was born, he should technically be turning seventy on his birthday on New Year’s Eve.”

“Seventy?” Cedric asked, clearly shocked. “Damn, you’re old enough to be...”

Tom grinned and interrupted Cedric, “Yes, I know, Cedric, I’m technically old enough to be Zach’s and your grandfather. You are Zach’s cousin, so I guess I can tell you the truth. In the two months I have been back at Hogwarts, everyone has been told that I am Thomas Byrne, but the truth is that my name is Tom Marvolo Riddle. The Care of Magical Creatures professor, Angelique Byrne, whose real name is Ariana Merope Riddle, is my sister, thus making me Nick Delaney’s granduncle and an heir of Salazar Slytherin. I spent fifty-four years in the dungeons under Malfoy Manor being brutally tortured by Voldemort, while he stole my identity. I suppose that even after all of his torture, I am, however slightly, grateful to the old bastard.”

“Why?” Zach asked.

“Because despite the pain he inflicted on me,” Tom said, “he did cast the Dark Arts prison variant of the Time Suspension Charm on me. Now that I am no longer his prisoner, I can live my life as if the last fifty-four years never happened. While I will always hate Voldemort for what he did to me, I am still grateful for that one gift.”

* * *

Unbeknownst to any of the bell tower’s occupants, their conversation was overheard by the same student who had happened upon Draco a few months ago after Ron had cast the Discrucio Curse on him. This same student had fully intended to kill Draco when they cast the Eviscero Curse on the blond. Of course, Draco did not die, unfortunately, and in hindsight the student wished they would used the Killing Curse, instead, but they did not dare cast an Unforgivable in the school, as that would be instantly detected and their cover would be blown. Their master was counting on them to relay information to him from within Hogwarts and they could not risk it, no matter how much they wanted to kill the traitorous blond.

“Hmm,” the student whispered to them self. “The Dark Lord will be very interested in this information, I think.”

The student laughed silently and slipped away before being detected. Unfortunately, in their haste to get away, they did not notice that their scarf, knitted in their house colors, fell out of their pocket – leaving a hint of red and gold in the otherwise empty and drab stone hallway.

* * *

To be continued.


	33. The Ruse is Revealed, Part One

Harry Potter and the Return of the Heirs  
By J.C. Vascardi

* * *  
Chapter Thirty:  
The Ruse is Revealed, Part One  
* * *  
Lord Voldemort sat upon the ebony throne that he had set up in the drawing room of the Riddle house in Little Hangleton. Several of his Death Eaters were also in the large room, which was used as the main meeting room. Voldemort stared idly at nothing in particular as he petted Nagini’s head and plotted his next atrocity. After a moment, a large barn owl swooped into the room and landed on one of the arms of Voldemort’s throne. Taking the small scroll from the bird’s leg, Voldemort grinned as it flapped its wings and took off, not realizing it would never see the outside ever again.

“Avada Kedavra!” Voldemort shouted as he pointed his wand at the owl and all the Death Eaters ducked as the jet of green light shot from the tip. Moments later, the owl fell from the air and hit the floor with a thud.

“Rabastan,” Voldemort said, “dispose of that thing.”

“Yes, my Lord,” Rabastan Lestrange said as he levitated the dead owl out of the room.

Unrolling the scroll, Voldemort read the note from his agent at Hogwarts.

My Lord Voldemort,

I have some very interesting news that I thought you would like to know about. I recently overheard a conversation in the Hogwarts Bell Tower. Present for this conversation were Slytherin Thomas Byrne and Hufflepuffs Zacharias Smith and Cedric Diggory.

Yes, my Lord, you read that last name correctly. Cedric Diggory is alive and back at Hogwarts. From what I overheard, it seems that Asheera Laitannen helped Draco Malfoy to journey to Tartarus and challenge Death for four souls. Cedric Diggory was one of them. The others were Narcissa Malfoy, James Potter, and Lily Potter.

“Hmm, interesting,” Voldemort thought. “I’ll have to make sure their return to the living is short-lived. Although, capturing them and torturing them would be so much more fun and they can be used as bargaining chips then to get at Harry and Draco. Now, what else does my agent have to say?”

Thomas Byrne also revealed something interesting. He claimed that he’s the granduncle of Slytherin Nicolas Delaney and that the Hogwarts Care of Magical Creatures professor, Angelique Byrne, is his sister. He said that her real name is Ariana Merope Riddle and that his name is actually Tom Marvolo Riddle. He told Zacharias and Cedric that he’d spent over fifty years as your prisoner, my Lord.

Not bothering to read the rest of the missive, Voldemort screamed in fury as the parchment in his hand burst into flames. Jumping up from his throne, Voldemort Apparated immediately to Malfoy Manor and went down to the dungeon.

Finding Tom Riddle right where he’d left him, Voldemort smiled and said, “I’ll have to kill that stupid child for lying to me. Honestly, to think that my prisoner had somehow escaped – it’s ludicrous.”

Striding further into the room, Voldemort saw that Tom was fast asleep on the small and dingy cot in the corner of the room. The air in the room was permeated with the sickening smell of vomit and excrement, as Voldemort had decided last time he was here to torture his prisoner to order Lucius’s house-elves to clean the boy’s chamber pot by dumping it on his bed and making him lie in it. After a week, the smell had obviously gotten bad enough to make the boy sick and start vomiting, adding another sickening smell to the room.

“Wake up, you pathetic little wretch!” Voldemort screamed at the prone boy. When the boy didn’t move, Voldemort raised his wand and shouted, “Crucio!”

The boy was awake instantly and moaning in pain, so oblivious to anything other than the pain coursing through his body that he didn’t even notice when some of his own excrement ended up in his mouth.

Holding the curse for several minutes, Voldemort laughed with glee, before casting the spell to throw his prisoner across the room. The boy sailed across the room and crashed into the wall with a crunch and a clang.

“What was that noise?” Voldemort asked. He knew the crunching noise was probably one of his prisoner’s bones breaking for the umpteenth time, but a clanging noise? That didn’t make any sense.

Striding across the room to where his prisoner lay on the ground, Voldemort cast a spell to violently pull the boy to his feet. Looking into the boy’s eyes, Voldemort saw that he looked like Tom Riddle, but something was obviously wrong. Taking a step back, Voldemort pointed his wand at the boy’s left hand and muttered an incantation which caused a jet of acid to shoot from the tip of his wand. The boy screamed as the acid ate away at his flesh, but instead of bones, there was instead a hand made of solid silver under the flesh. Voldemort now understand what the clanging noise had been – Wormtail’s silver hand hitting the stone wall.

“WORMTAIL!!” Voldemort screamed. “What in the Hells are you doing in here disguised as Tom Riddle?”

“Master, please,” Wormtail croaked out, before he coughed and wheezed.

“SILENCE, YOU FOOL!!” Voldemort yelled. “All I asked was that you stay here with those other idiots and guard Tom Riddle. AND YOU HAVE FAILED ME!!”

Grabbing Wormtail by the neck, Voldemort Apparated them both back to the drawing room at the Riddle house. Throwing Wormtail off the raised dais his throne sat upon, Voldemort, a cold fury burning in his eyes, pointed at the nearest Death Eater, and said, “YOU!! Come here.”

The young woman walked forward up to her master’s throne and prepared to bow. Before she could, however, he violently grabbed her right arm, ripped the sleeve of her robe off and jabbed his wand into the Dark Mark on her arm. With the Death Eaters not already present called, Voldemort flung the woman away from him and she screamed as she fell on top of Wormtail’s broken and extremely filthy body.

Within minutes, every Death Eater in Voldemort’s service, which now numbered over two thousand, stood crowded in the room, wondering why Voldemort had called all of them. It was very rare for him to call all of his Death Eaters to his headquarters at the Riddle house – he usually called only the inner circle.

“MARCUS AVERY, ALECTO AND AMYCUS CARROW, EDWARD CRABBE, WILLIAM GOYLE, PHILLIP PARKINSON, NATHAN BULSTRODE, DAMIEN MULCIBER, AND WALDEN MACNAIR, STEP FORWARD NOW!!” Voldemort screamed at the top of his lungs.

One by one, the nine Death Eaters he called stepped forward and bowed before their master. Voldemort was not appeased by this act of fealty, however.

“You have failed me,” he said. “During the attack on Inverness, I set you a very simple task. You were to stay at Malfoy Manor and guard the prisoner in the dungeons. And now I find out that my prisoner has escaped and was replaced with Wormtail! You will all pay for your failure!”

Raising his wand in preparation to cast the Cruciatus Curse, Voldemort paused for a moment, in thought, before he did something that caused all the Death Eaters in the room to gasp – he grabbed his wand in both hands and snapped it in half.

“My prisoner is gone and I think the time for this ruse to be revealed has come,” Voldemort said. “The nine of you will pay, but not by your weak mortal magic. NOW YOU SHALL FACE ME AND ALL THE POWER OF THE HELLS!!”

A bolt of red lightning shot out of both of Voldemort’s hands as a fierce wind blew through the room. Above Voldemort’s head a cloud began to gather and as everyone in the room watched, wondering what was going on, several more bolts of red lightning struck Voldemort and he instantly began to get bigger. His robes ripped to shreds as his limbs grew bigger and muscular. Razor sharp talons appeared on the tips of each of his fingers, a long, forked tail appeared and a pair of fiery wings sprouted from his back. A pair of horns, black as the ebony of his throne grew from his head, and his flesh, once a deathly pale white was now a vibrant red.

Now towering above his Death Eaters at over ten feet tall, Voldemort said, “I am Lord Voldemort, a devil born of the fires of Phlegethos and all of you are my slaves!”

Some of the Death Eaters fainted at this announcement. Others murmured their obvious terror. Even Bellatrix, who was arguably one of Voldemort’s most ardent supporters, looked a bit sick, as she realized what master she was actually serving.

“I know this is a turn of events that you did not expect,” Voldemort said, “however, there is no turning back. You all have my mark upon your arms and it cannot be removed. That mark binds you to my service for all eternity. Not only will you serve me in this lifetime, but when you die, your immortal souls will be my property to do with as I see fit!

“As those among you who actually have brains in your heads, may have guessed, it is not my goal to purify your stupid, insignificant little race of Muggles and Muggle-borns and I could care less about your disputes over the purity of Wizarding blood. All the deaths and works of evil that you have committed on my behalf have been for one purpose and one purpose only: to turn this pitiful world you know as Earth into my kingdom. That is, to turn it into the Tenth Hell, over which I shall rule supreme, as ruler of not only it, but also the other Nine Hells!”

Voldemort remained silent for a few minutes, allowing what he’d just said to sink in, before he spoke again.

“Now, some of you may be plotting to escape from my service or to somehow circumvent my goals, but both are futile. NONE SHALL OPPOSE ME! And those who do will be punished in such cruel and unspeakable ways that the weak, mortal mind simply cannot fathom them. And as for the nine of you--” Voldemort motioned towards the nine Death Eaters he’d tasked with guarding Tom during the Battle of Inverness, “--you will soon wish you had never been born. If you thought my use of the Cruciatus Curse was painful, you haven’t seen anything yet! Or should I say felt anything yet?”

Cackling, Voldemort raised one of his clawed hands, causing a column of red light to stream down from above him, followed shortly thereafter by several spirals of red and black magical energies. The assembled Death Eaters watched, curious and at the same time terrified, as one by one a stream of red light cascaded down over the heads of the nine Death Eaters, plus Wormtail, that stood before him. As soon as the red light touched them, they all began to scream in agony. Not only were they experiencing the pain of the Cruciatus Curse, multiplied by about ten times in its intensity, but their internal organs and flesh felt like they were being boiled in acid. Of course, that’s because they were and the other Death Eaters watched in abject terror as the flesh of the ten Death Eaters was covered in extremely painful-looking acid burns.

After a few minutes, Voldemort stopped his spell and looking at the Death Eaters he’d just tortured, said, “I’m sure you all would dearly love it if I were to kill you now, as I’m sure the pain that you are all feeling is excruciating. However, I shall not be giving you the boon of death this day. There are things much worse than death and I intend to make sure you experience all of them. Then and only then, will I consider killing you and absorbing the energies of your souls to feed my powers.”

* * *

Meanwhile, in the deepest pits of the Hells, otherwise known as Nessus, the Ninth Hell, the powerful King of the Hells, Asmodeus, watched the events unfolding on Earth with amusement.

“So, a lesser devil thinks he can unseat me, does he?” Asmodeus said. “Well, we’ll see about that.”

Raising his scepter, a four-foot shaft carved from a solid ruby, Asmodeus mumbled a few words under his breath and prepared to force Voldemort’s return to his native layer of Hell, Phlegethos. It was then that he realized that he would be unable to do it, for as soon as he finished the first part of his spell, long tendrils of red light, normally invisible to the naked eye, emerged from Voldemort’s body and connected him to all of his Death Eaters.

“So, he has prevented me from forcing his return, I see,” Asmodeus said. “He’s bound himself to over two thousand mortals – impressive. But, if he thinks for one minute that he’s going to unseat me, the all-powerful Asmodeus, he is sadly mistaken.”

Watching Voldemort torture the ten Death Eaters, Asmodeus laughed cruelly and said, “I must admit, he can be very cruel when he wants to be, but that is nothing in comparison to me. Hmm, I think someone needs to be punished for allowing Voldemort to escape the Hells.”

Raising his ruby staff once more, Asmodeus bellowed, “Belial, Fierna, I summon thee!”

Almost instantly, the aspects of the Archduke Belial and his daughter, the Lady Fierna, the joint rulers of Phlegethos, appeared before Asmodeus. An Archdevil’s aspect is the physical embodiment of a portion of their life force, created to serve as a proxy on another plane. In this way, they can spread their influence without placing themselves in immediate danger. While the aspect and the Archdevil have different bodies, they share the same mind, so whatever one knows, so does the other.

“You called, my Lord?” Fierna asked.

“I’ve just become aware of a rather disturbing development,” Asmodeus said. “It would seem that a lesser devil is free on the Mortal Plane, Earth, and has designs to overthrow me as King of the Hells. Not that he has any chance of succeeding, but, I felt it necessary to tell the two of you, since he was your responsibility!”

“Do you mean he’s from Phlegethos?” Belial asked.

“Yes, Belial, he is from Phlegethos,” Asmodeus answered. “His name is Voldemort and if I’m not mistaken, he was born some three thousand years ago. I would simply force his return to your fiery pits, where I would expect you to put him in his place and remind him of the hierarchy of the Hells, but, I am unable to act at this time.”

“Why?” Fierna asked. “Surely nothing is beyond your power, oh great Asmodeus?”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, my dear,” Asmodeus said. “As for why I can’t act, it would seem that Voldemort hasn’t forgotten everything about the nature of the Hells. He’s bound himself to over two thousand living mortals, which means even I in my vast power cannot force him to return to Phlegethos without also forcing all of those mortals there as well. I’m sure Mephistopheles would love it if I defied Zeus’s orders and forced him to return anyway, but I am not a fool. I may indeed be the strongest force in all the Hells, but, as much as I hate to admit it, I am not the strongest force in the universe.”

After several moments of silence, Asmodeus said, “I’m sure you both know why I’ve brought you before me? Voldemort, lesser devil or not, was a denizen of the realm that you rule by my decree. You failed to prevent him from journeying to Earth and you failed to tell me that he had done so. He obviously used some very powerful disguising magic to hide the fact that he had left the Hells from me for as long as he has.”

“As long as he has?” Fierna asked, as she gulped, very fearful of the answer that she was about to receive.

“Oh, Fierna, did I forget to mention that he’s been on Earth now for almost 200 years?” Asmodeus asked.

Now it was Belial’s turn to gulp. “Almost 200 years, my lord?”

“Yes, Belial,” Asmodeus confirmed. “191 years to be exact. Well, at least by the calendar of the Hells. I believe in Earth years it translates to a little over 50, but nonetheless, that is far too long of a period for you or your agents to not have noticed that he was missing.”

“My lord, he’s only a lesser--” Fierna began.

“SILENCE!” Asmodeus roared. “I don’t care if he is only a lesser devil, Fierna. You are the ruler of Phlegethos. Least devil, lesser devil, or greater devil it is your job to know the comings and goings of every single denizen of your realm! You have failed me and allowed a potential threat to escape your realms. Not that I believe for a second that Voldemort can succeed in his goals, but, nonetheless, you both will pay for your failure to warn me of his flight.”

Knowing that they could do nothing against Asmodeus, Belial bowed and said, “My lord, Fierna and I willingly submit ourselves to whatever punishment you, in your infinite wisdom, think is best.”

“While your willing compliance is not necessary, it is good that you realize who holds the power here in the Hells,” Asmodeus said. “However, that does not change the fact that you have allowed a devil of your realm to escape and set in motion a plan to unseat me. Such an act cannot go unpunished, even if committed in ignorance or by oversight. As punishment, I order that sixty percent of the souls bound for Phlegethos for the next 191 years be diverted here to Nessus to serve me instead of you.”

Despite the fact that the decree would considerably weaken their position, Belial and Fierna had no choice but to comply with Asmodeus’ decree. Fierna said, “Of course, my Lord Asmodeus. It shall be as you command.”

“But, that is not nearly enough punishment, I think,” Asmodeus said. “Considering decisions you’ve both made on other, unrelated matters, I think a stricter punishment is in order.”

“Other, unrelated matters?” Belial asked.

“Come now, Belial, don’t think I don’t know about the army you’ve assembled for an attack on Malbolge,” Asmodeus said. “I don’t care if you formed it with the intention of attacking that hag Malagarde. The fact that you didn’t immediately disband that army when my daughter took over ruler ship of Malbolge is enough for me. You deserve to be punished and punished you shall be.

“As for you, Fierna, you’ve been extremely quick to befriend my dear Glasya, and I cannot help but suspect that you have ulterior motives. Perhaps you’ve grown tired of sharing authority with your father and thought to learn Glasya’s weaknesses, so that you can take the throne of Malbolge for yourself? As if I would ever allow such insolence!”

“My lord, please, I will disband the army immediately!” Belial exclaimed.

“My lord, I swear, I had no intention of trying to learn Glasya’s weaknesses. I was simply trying to forge an alliance with her.”

“Your motives don’t matter,” Asmodeus said. “I am King of the Hells, and if I decide that you are to be punished, you will be. Now, what would be a fitting punishment for you, hmm? There’s no ice in Phlegethos, so I can’t very well imprison you in an iceberg like I did to Levistus. And as amusing as Baazlebul’s transformation into a giant slug that trails garbage and feces wherever he goes was, I think something different is in order.”

After a few moments of thought, Asmodeus raised his ruby staff, prepared to mete out his punishment, as he said, “Ah, yes, I have it now.”

Within moments, Belial and Fierna were standing back to back, writhing in agony as Asmodeus’ punishment transformation took effect. Within a matter of minutes, their transformation was complete and they both shuddered in horror as they realized that they had basically been turned into a centaur. That is a two-headed centaur with two torsos, one male and one female, facing in opposite directions, with a single horse’s body connecting them. Thus, neither of them had tails or hind legs.

Asmodeus laughed at his handiwork and said, “Don’t think that this change is limited to your aspects, because it’s not. Now, BE GONE!!”

“Yes, my lord,” Belial and Fierna said in unison, as Fierna trotted a few steps away, which was rather hard as Belial tried to get the hang of making his new horse-like front legs to go in reverse. Within seconds, the now conjoined Lord and Lady of Phlegethos had left Asmodeus’ palace, leaving the powerful King of the Hells alone.

“Now, I must turn my attention to Earth and a way to stop that fool Voldemort,” Asmodeus said. “Of course, there’s no rush. He can’t succeed and thanks to the difference in the passage of time between Earth and the Hells, I have years to formulate my plan, while he tries to surpass my evilness. He still has a long way to go before surpassing even Avernus, let alone the seven levels between it and my beloved Nessus.”

* * *

To be continued.


	34. The Ruse is Revealed, Part Two

Harry Potter and the Return of the Heirs  
By J.C. Vascardi

-o-0-o-

Chapter Thirty:  
The Ruse is Revealed, Part Two

-o-0-o-

Once Lord Voldemort had finished torturing the ten Death Eaters whose job it had been to guard Tom Riddle in the dungeons under Malfoy Manor, he dismissed every Death Eater in his service. He wanted some time alone to think, as he had not planned on ending the ruse of being a human wizard quite this soon. He knew that Asmodeus knew he was on Earth now.

He didn’t allow his Death Eaters to know this, as he didn’t even flinch at the time, but he’d felt the first half of the spell that Asmodeus had begun to cast to try and force him to return to Phlegethos. Being a denizen of the Hells, he’d also been able to see the strands of power that connected him to the Death Eaters, signaling that Asmodeus would not be able to force him to return. While he was safe for now from the powers of the King of the Hells, Voldemort was smart enough to know that he’d have to step up his plans now that the secret was out.

The longer his conquest of Earth took, the longer Asmodeus would have to formulate a plan to stop him and due to the difference in the passage of time between Earth and the Hells, the Lord of Nessus had more time than Voldemort did. He was determined not to let that stop him, however, as he would be King of the Hells and nothing, not even the great Asmodeus, who wasn’t all that great in Voldemort’s opinion, was going to stop him.

-o-0-o-

Arriving back at the Château De Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange both felt sick at the revelations they’d just gotten. They both believed in the cause of pure-blood supremacy, but turning Earth into the Tenth Hell? That was something that they would never have signed up for if they’d known what they were getting into when they accepted the Dark Mark.

After they had gotten out of the bathroom, where they both parted with everything they’d eaten for the day, they met in Lucius’ study.

Breaking the silence, Lucius said, “I never thought I’d hear myself say this, Bella, but knowing what I know now, I’m glad Draco didn’t take the Dark Mark.”

Bellatrix nodded. “As am I, Lucius. Before today I thought he was a weak and pathetic little wretch that didn’t deserve to live for his refusal to take the Mark. Now though, I find myself happy to know that my nephew isn’t bound to that fiend as we are.”

“What are we going to do, Bella?” Lucius asked. “We thought we were saving the Wizarding world but in reality, we’ve been contributing to its destruction. I still believe that purebloods are superior, but turning Earth into the Tenth Hell? I would never sign up for that.”

“Neither would I,” Bellatrix said. “As for what we’re going to do, I have no idea. I’m afraid it may be too late for us, Lucius.”

“It leaves an extremely bitter taste in my mouth to say this,” Lucius said, “but I hope that old fool Dumbledore and his Order find a way to reverse the path that the world is now on. Because the alternative is…” Here Lucius stopped speaking, unable to think of a word to adequately describe the alternative, as Bellatrix nodded her head in complete agreement.

-o-0-o-

Arriving back at Hogwarts, Professor Severus Snape ran as fast as his feet could carry him from the gates of Hogwarts, up to the castle. Once inside, he stopped running, but kept up as brisk of a walk as possible, sending one of his withering glares at anyone who dared get in his way. Finally arriving at the gargoyle, Snape said the password and stepped onto the stairway after the gargoyle moved out of the way.

“Come in, Severus,” Dumbledore’s voice said from within his office, the moment the black-haired professor reached the top of the stairs.

Walking into the office, Snape dropped into the large armchair in front of Dumbledore’s desk and before the old man could say anything, Snape reached into the folds of his robe and grabbed a vial from the dragonhide potions carrier he kept there. Uncorking it, Snape downed a potion, at which point he hurled the now empty vial across the room, where it shattered in the flames of Dumbledore’s fireplace.

Dumbledore immediately knew that something was very wrong, as Severus usually didn’t destroy empty potions vials, but instead kept them to be cleaned and reused. It was also the first time Dumbledore could remember the man sitting before him drinking a Draught of Peace. He’d seen him drink its weaker cousin, the Calming Draught, once or twice following a Death Eater meeting, but a Draught of Peace was a first. Deciding that it was best to remain quiet and give Severus a few moments for the potion to kick in, Dumbledore steepled his fingers and waited.

After a few deep breaths, as Snape did his best to bring his rapidly beating heartbeat under control, he said, “Headmaster, before this evening, despite the presence of the Riddle boy here at Hogwarts, I did not wish to believe what Alaric’s ghost had alleged about the Dark Lord.”

Dumbledore nodded. “And now?”

“I’m afraid I have no choice,” Snape answered. “Voldemort knows that Tom Riddle escaped. I don’t know how he found out, but he knows and he wasn’t happy. He called every single Death Eater in his service to headquarters tonight.”

“Every Death Eater?” Dumbledore asked, clearly shocked. “How many is that?”

“More than we ever thought,” Snape said. “There had to be at least two thousand there and probably quite a few more than that.”

“Oh dear.”

“It gets worse, Albus,” Snape said. “Once everyone was there, he called up the nine Death Eaters he’d left behind to guard Riddle and called them out for their failure. I think he was going to use the Cruciatus on them, but then he snapped his wand.”

“Snapped his wand?” Dumbledore asked in a grave tone, not liking the direction Snape’s tale was going in one bit. Normally, he might have been overjoyed at the thought of Voldemort snapping his wand and giving up wizardry, as if that would ever happen, but knowing what Voldemort really was, the fact that he’d snapped his wand had dire repercussions that Dumbledore didn’t like to contemplate.

“Yes, he snapped his wand and said it was time for his ruse to be revealed,” Snape said. “Headmaster, everything Alaric said is true. I saw it with my own eyes. The wizard we’ve always known as Voldemort melting away only to be replaced by a real, live devil.”

Standing up, Dumbledore walked over to his empty Pensieve and turning to Snape, he asked, “May I?”

“If you must,” Snape said, as he stood and walked over. Pulling out his wand, he placed it on his temple and a moment later, a long silvery strand fell into the awaiting Pensieve. To be honest, Snape was glad to be rid of the memory, as it was truly, hands down, the single most terrifying memory he possessed.

After viewing the memory, Dumbledore sighed. “Now that he’s revealed his ruse, I’d wager he’s going to step up his plans to turn Earth into the Tenth Hell.”

“I would imagine so,” Snape concurred.

“And the worst part of this,” Dumbledore said, “is that until he makes his presence known to the Wizarding public, we can’t do anything about it. Ideally, we’d get the Ministry involved, because as weak and ineffectual as they tend to be, we need to do everything we can to mount a defense. Of course, with all the spies that he’s got working for the Ministry, even if they were effective, it wouldn’t necessarily be to our advantage to involve them. They wouldn’t believe us anyway, since the only proof we have that he’s a devil are the words of a nine-year-old boy who died over a thousand years ago and a marked Death Eater – no offense, Severus.”

“None taken, Headmaster,” Snape said. After a moment, Snape’s face changed, as the fear he was feeling inside, slipped through his mask. “Speaking of being a marked Death Eater, Headmaster, at the meeting tonight Voldemort said that in taking the Mark, we’ve all condemned our souls to the Hells for eternity. I’ve never given much thought to the afterlife, but given the choice, I really would prefer not to spend eternity in the Hells.”

“I don’t blame you, Severus,” Dumbledore said. “I’ve come to think of death as being the next great adventure, but, if taking that adventure meant going to the Hells, well, I think I’d prefer never to take it.”

After several moments of silence, Dumbledore peered at the younger man over his half-moon spectacles and said, “Severus, I swear to you, if there’s a way to break the power of that fiend’s Mark, we will find it.”

Snape nodded. “Well, while I obviously have selfish reasons for wanting that, we’d have to do it anyway,” he reasoned, “as if what Lady Asheera said was true, he can’t be sent back to the Hells while he’s bound to so many living mortals.”

“Indeed,” Dumbledore said, as he turned and looked up at Fawkes. The phoenix looked Dumbledore in the eye for a moment, before he nodded his head and spread his wings, disappearing in a flash of flames, off to gather all of the members of the Order for an emergency meeting.

-o-0-o-

Half-an-hour later, Dumbledore walked into the Room of Requirement, which currently resembled a large conference room. Taking the empty seat at the head of the table, Dumbledore waited for a few moments for everyone to quiet down, as Fawkes appeared and settled down on the perch next to Dumbledore's chair.

Once everyone was quiet, Dumbledore spoke. "Friends, as many of you know, I was not present during the Battle of Inverness. Some of you know the reason, however, for those of you who don't, I went to Malfoy Manor, along with Alastor Moody, Aurora Sinistra, Valen Lasinius, Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Zacharias Smith, Ryan Cromwell, and Nickolas Delaney. The reason for this visit was to free a prisoner from the dungeons, who for the last couple of months has been attending Hogwarts under the name of Thomas Byrne, however, that is not his real name."

Dumbledore than nodded to McGonagall, who was standing near the door. The Head of Gryffindor then opened the door and Angelique Byrne walked into the room with Tom, who came to stand next to Dumbledore. Motioning towards the teen, Dumbledore said, "This is who I rescued from the manor's dungeons. I ask that you not panic when I say what I'm about to say, but, this is Tom Marvolo Riddle."

Several gasps could be heard, before Molly Weasley asked the question that was surely on everyone's minds. "But, Albus, you've always maintained that Tom Marvolo Riddle was You-Know-Who. How can this boy who can't be a day over sixteen be him?"

"I was wrong, Molly," Dumbledore admitted. "It's recently come to my attention that this young man has been held in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor, being tortured by Voldemort himself, for over fifty years now."

"Fifty years?" Kingsley Shacklebolt asked. "Forgive me, Albus, but as Molly said, he looks like he can't be much older than sixteen. How could he be a prisoner for fifty years?"

"Kingsley, you're an Auror," Dumbledore answered. "Can you think of no Dark Arts spell that could keep a person the age they were when they were imprisoned?"

"Well, there's the prison variant of the Time Suspension Charm," Kingsley said. "But, that feeds off the prisoner's magical core. Nobody is strong enough to last over fifty years."

"They are if all of their food and water is laced with Magic Restorative Drafts," Dumbledore said. "Make no mistake, this is Tom Riddle, as Minerva can confirm, as she was a student at Hogwarts when Tom was."

"Yes, it's definitely Tom Riddle," McGonagall confirmed. "We were in different houses, but we were both prefects, so, I did know Tom. As Head Girl in my seventh year, Tom's fifth, I got to know him better, since the Head Boy and Girl are essentially the leaders of the prefects. He always struck me as being a quiet youth, smart, athletic, and handsome, but certainly never evil. Not at first anyway, as he did seem to change quite dramatically as he got older."

Dumbledore sighed. "Thinking back, I should have realized something was wrong. The change in Tom's behavior is apparent to me now, but at the time... well, you all know what they say about hindsight. Anyway, what happened was this. Tom found out he was the heir of Slytherin, about the Chamber of Secrets, and the basilisk that it housed. Tom's only crime was to steal one of the school roosters, intending to use it to kill the basilisk."

"I realize now that I should have told someone," Tom said. "I didn't though. I figured it was my ancestor who'd bred the beast and since Parseltongue is necessary to open the Chamber, I figured I had to do it. I just didn't expect him to be there waiting for me."

"Him?" Arthur asked. "You mean the basilisk?"

"Ah, Arthur, if only it was that simple," Dumbledore said with a sigh. "No, young Tom here went down to the Chamber fully expecting to meet the basilisk. Basilisks can live for a very long time, given an adequate food supply, however, locked away inside of the Chamber of Secrets, the food supply would have run out in the over a thousand years that passed between Salazar breeding the beast, sealing it in the Chamber and young Tom here opening it. Salazar knew this and thus he called upon the powers of the Hells to help insure that the basilisk would survive."

"The powers of the Hells?" Kingsley asked. "Albus, what are you saying?"

"What he's saying is that Salazar summoned a devil," Severus said. "Voldemort is not human - he's a devil. A real, live devil born in the Hells - a fact which he revealed tonight to all of the Death Eaters. He doesn't care about Muggles and Muggle-borns or pureblood supremacy. All he cares about is turning Earth into the Tenth Hell."

"The Tenth Hell?" Emmeline Vance asked. "I don't understand, why would he want to do that?"

"He who rules the deepest Hell rules them all," Dumbledore stated. "In other words, if Voldemort succeeds in turning Earth into the Tenth Hell, he will become the most powerful devil in the Hells, unseating Asmodeus, the Lord of the Ninth Hell, Nessus, who has been King of the Hells for several millennia now. If Voldemort succeeds, all hope of us beating him will disappear because only the Gods would be powerful enough to defeat him."

"Okay, that would be bad," Oliver said, as several other people around the table nodded in agreement.

"So, what are we going to do, Albus?" Hestia Jones asked, after the group was silent for several minutes.

"For the moment, there isn't much we can do," Dumbledore said. "Until he chooses to reveal himself to the world, we can't go to the Ministry, because we all know how weak and inefficient they are. No offense meant to those of you who work there."

"None taken, Albus," Kingsley said. "If the truth hurts so be it."

"Another problem is that as a devil, Voldemort is immortal," Dumbledore said. "The only way to defeat him is to send him back to the Hells permanently. Unfortunately, he's taken steps to prevent that."

"What kind of steps?" Dedalus Diggle asked.

"The Dark Marks," Severus answered. "As long as there's even one marked Death Eater alive, Voldemort can't be sent back to the Hells."

"You mean we have to kill all the Death Eaters?" Tonks asked.

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, we must find a way of removing the Dark Mark. Killing them might be easier, but, it'll also make Voldemort more powerful because the Dark Mark acts as a promise. When the Death Eaters die, their souls belong to Voldemort and devils gain power from souls. The more they take the more powerful they become. He can draw some power from them while they're still alive, but not nearly as much as he would get if they die."

"The only reason he doesn't kill all the Death Eaters himself to increase his power, is because if he did, there'd be nothing binding him to this plane," McGonagall explained. "The second he revealed his true nature, Asmodeus would have found out that he was on Earth and would have attempted to force him to return. Bound to over two thousand living mortals, however, that's impossible because it's against cosmic law for devils to force living beings who were not born in the Hells to go there."

"I've been talking with one of our guests from Atlantis, Lady Asheera," Angelique said. "She believes that the Dark Mark can also affect the behavior of the Death Eaters. That they actually absorb evil through their link to Voldemort and thus all of them might not be as bad as we think they are. She thinks that Occlumency helps to lessen the absorption of evil, hence the reason that Severus here isn't as evil as some of the other Death Eaters."

"Isn't as evil as some of the others?" Severus asked, clearly annoyed with Angelique's choice of words.

"Yes, you heard me, young man," Angelique said. "And don't bother asking me to explain what I meant, because if you don't already know, then you're hopeless."

Before Severus could say anything in response to that, Dumbledore said, "Voldemort being a devil isn't the only news I have to share with you tonight."

"Oh sweet Merlin's beard," Elphias Doge spoke up. "What could possibly be worse than that?"

"I didn't say it was worse, Elphias," Dumbledore pointed out. "In fact, the other news I have to share is quite good. One might even go so far as to call it miraculous."

"I'm sure I speak for everyone here," Aberforth said, "when I say we could use some good news after the bomb you just dropped on us. So spill it, Albus." Aberforth Dumbledore didn't usually speak during the Order meetings, choosing to just quietly observe, but he decided to make an exception this time.

"Well, Minerva, Severus, Filius, Pomona, Molly and Arthur already know this," Dumbledore began, "But, with the help of Lady Asheera, Draco Malfoy recently paid a visit to Tartarus and decided not to come back alone. I'm sure you're all going to think I'm crazy when I say this, but Narcissa Malfoy, Cedric Diggory, and James and Lily Potter are no longer dead."

At this point, several people at the table started talking all at once, most of them asking Dumbledore why he'd say such a thing that couldn't possibly be true. Raising his hands and calling for silence, however, Dumbledore said, "I expected you wouldn't take my word for it. I can't say as I blame you, but perhaps you'll believe your own eyes."

As if on cue, Narcissa, Cedric, James and Lily chose that moment to enter the room, to shocked gasps and a couple of screams, while Emmeline Vance and Dedalus Diggle fainted. Once Emmeline and Dedalus had been Rennervated, Dumbledore pulled out his Pensieve and showed everyone his memory of Lady Asheera explaining what had happened. He used this method instead of having her do it in person because, for one, she wasn't a member of the Order, and two she had gotten sick and tired of explaining the situation.

"So, this was a one-time thing, right?" Kingsley asked. "It can't be done again?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Well, it can be done again, but not for a thousand more years. So, for all intents and purposes, you're correct, Kingsley, because nobody in this room or anywhere on the planet will be alive to do it."

"Not even the Atlanteans?" Tonks asked. "I thought I'd heard that they were very long-lived."

"Not even the Atlanteans," Dumbledore answered. "They are very long-lived, as a pureblood Atlantean often lives to see their 750th birthday. However, the oldest Atlantean on record, the late King Isulus Rivarendell, only lived to be 872 years old. So, no Atlantean currently living, even if they were born today, is likely to live long enough to see Persephone's tree bloom again."

"I can understand all of you being shocked," Molly said with a knowing smile. "Arthur and I were quite shocked when Albus told us - of course, that was nothing compared to how Amos and Hannah Diggory reacted."

"They were so happy to see me," Cedric said, speaking for the first time, "that they hugged me so tightly they almost choked me to death."

"Well, that would have been bad," Emmeline said. "Get your son back from the dead only to turn around and kill him."

"So, what is the afterlife like?" Elphias asked.

"We figured this would come up," James replied, before he began explaining to the group what the afterlife entailed, with occasional comments thrown in by Lily, Narcissa, and Cedric. After that, the meeting wound down, before finally Dumbledore dismissed everyone, with the warning to stay sharp in the coming days, for he feared it was only a matter of time before Voldemort would reveal his true nature to the world and put his plans into high gear.

-o-0-o-

Around ten the next day, Albus Dumbledore sat quietly in his office awaiting the arrival of Mr. John Ollivander, whom he'd summoned to Hogwarts, telling the venerable, old wandmaker to bring with him a large selection of wands.

"Come in, John," Dumbledore called out, after a moment, when the wards informed him that his guest had just reached the top of the stairs outside his office door.

"Albus, what is this about?" Ollivander asked. "I have a store to run and it is not my custom to close down in the middle of a work day to bring a selection of wands to Hogwarts."

"I know it's unusual, John," Dumbledore said, as he motioned to the chair in front of his desk, waiting for the wandmaker to sit down before he continued. "However, there are four people at Hogwarts who need new wands and due to their special circumstances I thought it unwise for them to come to your store during normal business hours."

"What kind of special circumstances?" Ollivander asked, as he arched an eyebrow, his curiosity obviously piqued.

"Well, this is going to sound crazy," Dumbledore said, "but then you saw Atlantis, so after that, I'm sure just about anything is more believable."

"Well, I admit," Ollivander said, "that seeing Atlantis did change my perspective on a few things. So, what is going to sound crazy, Albus?"

"Three of the four people who need new wands need them because their old wands most likely have bad cases of wood rot by now, having been interred with them in their caskets."

"Their caskets?" Ollivander asked, his tone clearly indicating his belief that he hadn't heard Dumbledore correctly.

"Yes, John, their caskets," Dumbledore said. "Until recently, all four people were dead. The fourth person died only a few months ago, so her wand probably hasn't started rotting yet, but getting to her coffin would be very hard, not to mention dangerous."

"What do you mean until recently they were dead?" Ollivander asked. "That sounds as if you're trying to imply that they were dead, but aren't anymore, and I'm sorry, Albus, but I am a wandmaker. As such, I'm very well versed in both wand lore and what they're capable of doing and restoring the dead to life as anything but an Inferius is not something a wand can do. And Inferi don't need wands, so I know you didn't call me to sell wands to any."

"You're right, John, your clients today are not Inferi," Dumbledore said as he stood up and walked over to his Pensieve. Motioning for Ollivander to come over, he said, "This should explain everything."

After having viewed Dumbledore's memory, a shocked Ollivander asked, "You mean to tell me that Cedric Diggory, Narcissa Malfoy, and James and Lily Potter are alive?"

"Yes, John, they're alive and well," Dumbledore said. "And none of them have aged a day since their deaths, which isn't quite as strange in Narcissa's and Cedric's cases, as they probably wouldn't have changed much in the few months and two years they've been dead. James and Lily, however, are now only a few years older than Harry - way too young to be his parents, even though they are."

"And young Mr. Malfoy is responsible?" Ollivander asked. He liked to think of himself as being a good judge of character and when he'd met the young Malfoy a few years ago, he never for a second thought he'd ever do something like this. He had obviously been wrong about the Malfoy scion.

"Yes, Draco went to Tartarus and got them," Dumbledore confirmed. "He had help from Lady Asheera, of course. She's Lord Corelian's wife, I don't believe you've met her yet - lovely woman."

"I don't know what to say," Ollivander said after several moments of silence.

"Hello would work," a voice said and looking up, Ollivander came face to face with the smiling face of James Potter. Lily, Cedric, and Narcissa were all standing behind him.

Looking at them, Ollivander smiled and said, "You know, it's a good thing that my Healer recently told me that my heart is as healthy as a twenty-year-old's, because if it wasn't, I'm sure I'd be having a heart attack right now."

Lily smiled at the old wandmaker and said, "I'm sure none of us would blame you, if you did. One definitely does not expect to ever see people who have died return from the grave."

"Definitely not," Ollivander agreed, before he pulled out his magical measuring tape. "Well, then, let's get started, shall we? Ladies first, please present your wand arms."

Ollivander didn't really need to take measurements, as he clearly remembered the wands that he'd sold to Lily, James, Narcissa, and Cedric the first time, but, it was still customary to take measurements. There was always the chance that they might need a different size wand now, as all of them had obviously grown a bit since they last bought wands.

Looking at Lily, Ollivander said, "Let's see, Lily Potter - your last wand was willow, 10 1/4 inches, swishy, with the heartstring from a Hungarian Horntail, correct?"

"Yes," Lily said with a smile.

Pulling a bundle from an inner pocket of his robes, Ollivander enlarged it to reveal a small mountain of boxes he'd brought with him from his store. Quietly perusing the boxes for several moments, Ollivander finally pulled out a box, removed a wand from it, and handed it to Lily.

"Try this one," Ollivander said. "10 1/2 inches, nice and swishy, holly, with a unicorn tail core."

Lily swished and flicked the wand and caused a lovely bouquet of flowers - lilies appropriately enough - to appear from the tip. Smiling, Ollivander said, "Looks like that one will work well for you, Lily."

"Thank you, Mr. Ollivander," Lily said with a smile, as she tucked her new wand into the dragon hide wand holder that was hidden in the folds of her red and cream colored dress.

"Now, Mrs. Malfoy, you old wand was a stiff 9 3/4 inch ash wand with a phoenix feather, correct?"

"Correct," Narcissa said. "Although, I must admit, I always thought it was a little too stiff."

"Yes," Ollivander remarked. "I remember I had quite the trouble finding you a wand. You must have tried out over a dozen that day. I wasn't particularly pleased with the match myself, but your mother was sick of waiting. Well, let's see if we can do better this time, shall we?"

Turning once again to the pile of boxes, Ollivander scanned his eyes over the boxes and more than once reached for a box, before changing his mind and whispering, "No, not that one," to himself. Continuing to peruse the selection he'd brought, Ollivander said, "No, definitely not," before finally, "Hmm, perhaps this one?" as he grabbed a box and removed a wand from within.

"Try this one," Ollivander said as he handed the wand to Narcissa. "It's a nice and pliable fir - 10 inches with the heartstring of a Peruvian Vipertooth."

With a quick swish and flick, Narcissa conjured up a crystal wine goblet, before another swish and flick caused a jet of red wine to shoot from the tip of the wand to fill it.

"That definitely appears to work much better," Ollivander said, before holding out his hand to Narcissa and asking, "May I?"

"Of course," Narcissa said as she handed Ollivander the goblet of wine, which he took a sip of and smiled. "Excellent vintage, Mrs. Malfoy, truly excellent - only a perfect match could result in such fine display of wand work. The fir wand is definitely for you."

"Thank you, Mr. Ollivander," Narcissa said with a smile. "I must admit that this one definitely does seem more comfortable than my old one. I shan't miss it in the slightest."

"Good, good," Ollivander said, as he handed the goblet back to Narcissa, who sipped some of its contents herself, before allowing Lily, Dumbledore, and James to sample her handiwork - all of whom agreed it was delicious. "Now, gentleman, please present your wand arms."

Standing side by side, Cedric and James presented their wand warms for measurements as Ollivander once again turned his attention to the pile of boxes. "Let's see, Cedric Diggory, your last wand was a pleasantly springy, 12 1/4 inch ash wand with the tail hair of a particularly fine male unicorn, correct?"

Cedric smiled and said, "Correct."

Scanning the boxes, Ollivander pulled out a long black one and removed a wand from within. "Here, try this one - a springy, 12 1/2 inch ash with a phoenix feather."

Taking the wand and swishing it, Cedric's face was soon covered in soot, following a small explosion which knocked Ollivander off his feet and caused him to knock over several of the boxes behind him. Standing up and dusting himself off, Ollivander took the wand and said, "Definitely not a good match."

Cedric nodded his head in agreement, as Lily performed a quick Cleaning Charm on his face, to which he smiled and said, "Thank you."

Perusing the boxes, Ollivander rejected several, before coming across a very old looking black leather box with bronze edges. "Hmm, I wonder... try this one, young man," Ollivander said, as he grabbed the box and handed the wand inside to Cedric. "It's an 11 3/4 inch ebony wand with a unicorn tail hair."

Taking the wand gently in his hand, Cedric's whole body lit up with a blinding aura for a second, causing everyone, Cedric included, to shield their eyes. Once the aura had faded, Cedric gave the wand a quick wave and gasped as half a dozen bouquets of yellow roses shot out of the tip of the wand and fell to the floor.

Smiling, Ollivander clapped his hands together and said, "I'd say that's a perfect match young man. It's very interesting that that particular wand would choose you. I've had it forever, never finding the right person to give it to. In fact, my father, and his father, and his father before him had the same problem. I'm sure if it had been common knowledge, my store would have been robbed by now, but that particular wand once belonged to Connor Scott - the great-great-grandson of Helga Hufflepuff."

"Well, then it makes perfect sense that Cedric should get that wand," a female voice said, "seeing as he is one of my heirs."

"Hello Helga," Dumbledore said to Helga as she appeared in Phineas Nigellus' portrait. The former headmaster was in his portrait this time, but he gladly moved aside to allow one of the founders to share his frame. It was quite an honor, after all. A fact which was made all the more clear by the fact that some of the other portraits, particularly those of Armando Dippet and Dilys Derwent, looked jealous of Phineas.

"I'd read in the _Prophet_ that the founders' portraits had been found," Ollivander said in awe. "I take it this is Helga Hufflepuff?"

"Yes, Mr. Ollivander," Helga said. "I'm Helga Hufflepuff, one of the four founders of this school and the founder of the house you yourself were in I believe."

Ollivander nodded and said, "Yes, I was a Hufflepuff. All the Ollivander males for the past three centuries have been Hufflepuffs, while the females have been Ravenclaws. As for Mr. Diggory being your heir, I completely forgot, Madam. I'm afraid that my age does tend to creep up on me, at times."

Dumbledore smiled. "As it does to us all, John," Dumbledore said and after a moment, added, "me much more so than you, of course," referring to the fact that he was almost thirty years older than Ollivander.

At this point, Ollivander turned back to his task and began trying to find the appropriate wand for James. After trying a couple that didn't work, he finally found one that was just right. An 11 1/4 inch mahogany wand that was almost identical to the first wand that Ollivander had sold to him when he was eleven. The only difference being that this one was a fourth of an inch longer and had a phoenix feather core, whereas the first wand had a dragon heartstring from a Swedish Short-Snout. To test his new wand, and to perhaps prove that he was still a Marauder at heart, he did a bit of complicated Transfiguration, turning Dumbledore's desk into a stag.

Lily grinned and playfully swatted his arm with an admonishment of, "James!" as Cedric, Ollivander, Narcissa, Helga and Dumbledore laughed.

-o-0-o-

To be continued.


End file.
